#so I can either have 2 OC’s have this long braid or I can make one have the braid and trade out who has it…

[volk0720]

Drawings rn… what should I put in the next panel? I don’t normally script out these little things

[wardenparker]

The Viper’s Bride - ch 3

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst​

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.  

Rating: Explicit for violent circumstances. 18+ Word Count: 10.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* This chapter contains mentions of Elia’s assault and murder. Blunt discussions of sex. Arguing/fighting, physical violence, threats of further violence. False accusation of sexual assault.  Summary: The first meeting between Prince Oberyn Martell and his future bride goes very differently than either one of you planned, and what happens immediately afterward is quite possibly your worst nightmare come to life. Notes: It all takes place in the space of one morning, and this is an extremely busy morning...

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

"If you tighten my stays anymore I will not be able to breathe." The problem with having your mother's maid dress you during your stay in King's landing is that she does your mother's bidding. The stays that envelope your entire middle have been strapped onto you this morning so that your posture is more like a board than a noble woman's, and though the dress that has been selected for today is lovely there is no need for this sort of binding. It fits you perfectly as it is.

"Her ladyship's orders." The maid mumbles as she slips the lavender velvet gown over your head and tends to each and every button and tie with precision before nearly forcing you down in a chair to style your hair into an elaborate series of small plaits, curls, and twists that is a far cry from the simple three-strand plait you have favored for nearly a decade. Apparently your mother has determined what you will look like today and has left no room for argument. How terribly unlike her says the petty and slightly childish voice in your head as you roll your eyes to yourself.

The breakfast invitation from the Queen Regent was unexpected, but the utter delight on both of your parents' faces made it obvious that it was unavoidable. Queen Cersei had offered to host the meal at which you will meet your intended for the very first time, and that sort of invitation is impossible to refuse.

******

“I will hide my brother’s chair once we return to Dorne.” Oberyn hisses, his normally loose and relaxed gait is more rigid, annoyed with every step he takes towards the Red Keep. “Or burn it.” His hand is firmly entwined with Ellaria’s, insisting she join him for this dreadful occasion.

"He can still give orders from his bed, my love." Ellaria shakes her head as she walks beside him. No good can come of this meal this morning. Oberyn is in a foul disposition at being summoned anywhere by a Lannister and you are certain to be cagey and snobbish after the meeting last night.

“Not if the servants are not around.” He grouses, annoyed to be woken by none other than Tywin Lannister to be ‘invited’ to this meal. Tense words and barbed meanings were bandied about and the mettle of each man was casually examined. “I have no doubt Cersei is already deep in her cup.” He snorts, wishing there had been time for a cup of his own wine before leaving the brothel.

"Yet I think even a drunk Queen would not be pleasant enough company." She has her own reasons for not wanting to be near the Keep the day before the young king's wedding, but mostly it has to do with what vexes Oberyn. He was supposed to have one more day before this betrothal became public knowledge. A day he was counting on to collect himself. And now it seems he will not have it.

“Where did you go?” Oberyn asks suddenly, squeezing her hand. “After supper last night?” Before he had met Tyrion and very satisfactorily put his dagger through the hand of a Lannister. Then fucked Littlefinger’s man since Cal had been away from the brothel.

"To obtain a gift for you." Ellaria tells him with a sultry smile. "Leyth told me of a shop that sells wares you will be most interested in. But it will not be ready for several days." Before making her way to the Coachman, she had indeed visited an artisan that crafts exquisite garments to display any kind of body. With all of the aggravations he will be suffering here in the capital, she thought it would be a pleasant surprise for him.

“You are all the gift I need.” He smirks, eyes dipping down to the deep v of her dress where her lithe body is very nearly on display. It is a gown she is comfortable in, yet would make all the other ‘ladies’ uncomfortable. Which makes it all the more amusing for Oberyn.

"But you love to unwrap your gifts," she reminds him. "And so I thought I would find some very pretty wrapping."

For the first time today, Oberyn’s eyes light up with something other than annoyance and he grips her fingers tight. “We will not be staying long.”

"A few days." It had been something he was very firm on. Oberyn did not want to stay here any longer than necessary and she would follow his desire on the subject. "But first...." The Red Keep looms as it comes closer, almost seeming to lean over so it can swallow them whole. "Into the lion's den."

“Fucking Lannisters.” Oberyn growls, trying not to imagine his beloved sister’s blood splashed over the stone floors and her crumpled, violated body laying forgotten.

"No good will come of drawing your blade this morning, my love." Though her hand does tighten around his, knowing that anything is possible.

“I make no promises.” He relaxes slightly, knowing he would not act rashly. It would put Ellaria in danger and while his paramour can protect herself, he would not do that.

"Think of your daughters left without their doting father," she reminds him as they start up the stairs of the keep. If anything happened to Oberyn, his eight bastard daughters would surely be left wanting. Doran is too proper to do more than send apologies to their mothers.

"Prince Oberyn." The footman at the door of the keep bows deeply, though he shoots a confused look in Ellaria's direction. "And...guest. Please follow me. You are expected in the gardens."

“Guest.” Oberyn chuckles under his breath, amused that Tywin hadn’t thought he would bring his paramour.

The halls of the Red Keep are narrow and damp with chill despite the warmth of the sun and Ellaria sticks to Oberyn's side as they follow the man through the maze out to the gardens on the other side. This is sure to be an unforgettable morning, no matter which way things go.

“At least I will not have to eat in that moldering pile of shit.” Oberyn grunts under his breath, rolling his shoulders back and immediately adopting a more relaxed stance than the rigid form just seconds ago. He will not allow these lions to see he does not like being here.

"Prince Oberyn." Cersei's voice is dripping with insincere joy the moment she spies gold peak around the corner of the palace walls with her footman solemnly leading the way. "How kind of you to join us this morning." Though she does not want him here any more than the Dornish Prince wanted to attend, Cersei has little choice. That little schemer Margaery Tyrell has gotten her claws into you already and Cersei cannot be left without allies. Not while her only daughter is kept under the lock and key of the Martells.

Prince Oberyn. As soon as you hear the name, you turn from examining the hydrangea bush beside you and hold your breath. If you could, you would flee. Damn the consequences and damn the danger, you would grab Raeden's hand and run. But you seem frozen to the spot as your future walks out into the garden with one hand firmly holding Ellaria Sand's.

Oberyn can hear the immediate whispers and dismisses them. The movement out of the corner of his eye is servants, scurrying to place another setting for his ‘guest’ and he musters as charming a smile as he can possibly gather. “Cersei.” He nods, purposefully not using her title. “Shall I call you queen, or dowager? I should think you relish the use of the title for one more day.”

"I believe the proper term is Queen Regent." Her teeth don't grind like the gears in her mind, but only because she commands them not to. "I gathered at supper last night that you had not yet had the fortune of meeting your betrothed, so I took it upon myself to help you toward happiness." She smiles at him, sickly sweet and insincere, and begins to lead Oberyn down the steps to where the table has been set up. Everyone with half a brain knows that Prince Oberyn never intended to marry and that he travels everywhere with his mistress. There is no possible way that this marriage was his idea, but still she has to work with what material she has.

His hand doesn’t slip from Ellaria’s, holding firm to it as he follows the queen with his jaw tight as the eyes around the table follow him closely. Dark eyes meet yours when he is halfway to you and his brow arches, surprised that you are older than he imagined and even more beautiful than the miniature portrait that Doran had provided.

There is a moment, right before his eyes find yours, that you consider running all over again. The people who called Prince Oberyn of Dorne merely handsome were foolish, lacking the vocabulary to describe such an ethereal being. He is nothing short of devastatingly magnetic, and just as you realize that he is looking directly at you the feeling that he has gone far past your eyes and into your soul is unmistakable. Only one other person in the gods' own world had ever made you swallow your heart the moment you saw them, and he has been your constant bedfellow for years.

This man is the one you have vowed never to lay with or to love. Never to bear his children or to enjoy his company. It is a cruel trick from the universe that he should be so captivating in his looks. So much so that you have forgotten to curtsy and now your mother's hand is on your shoulder trying to tug you downward. How unlucky for her that you seem to be made of stone at the moment.

“So this is the future lady wife.” Oberyn would not shame you, even as much as he might be justified in it because of his objection to the union. Your name rolls off his tongue as he feels Ellaria let go of his hand so he can take yours, bending down to kiss the back of your hand even though his own station is higher than yours at the moment. There’s something about the fear and defiance in your eyes that intrigues him. You are not some overjoyed miss, happy to have landed him as your husband. From the tightness of your eyes, you would rather be anywhere else and he can’t help but wonder where you would go.

"Your Grace, we cannot say how delighted we are to unite our families." When you cannot muster the intelligence to speak or even curtsy, your mother pushes in as delicately as her usual grace allows. "Our House's relationship with Dorne is so dear–"

“Don't lie to a prince, Mother." Even you have to admit to being shocked at yourself when those are the first words out of your mouth in his presence, but her bowing and scraping is ridiculous. Embarrassing her a little now, with the contract signed and the match already made, cannot do much but color his opinion of his future mother-in-law. "It is my Father's house that has connections to Dorne, your Grace." You still haven't curtsied, and yet now you feel like you will not just out of spite. "My mother is overjoyed you are a prince. It does not matter where you come from."

The sharp inhales from the nosey busybodies that are the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting are all that is heard for a long moment. The birds and insects are still as well, as if the entire world holds their breath for his response. Fabric rustles and your mother opens her mouth again while his eyes bore into yours. “Your Grace, I must apolo–”

Oberyn holds up his hand, the one not holding yours, to silence the decidedly shrill voice of the poisonous pit viper of a woman to your left that is currently looking as if she might faint. “Be quiet.” He orders sternly, still staring at you.

It is possibly the only time in your life that you have heard her follow an instruction the first time it was given – if at all – and you swallow thickly, wondering what he will say to being told the truth. If you could look past him even for a moment you would see the utter amusement on Ellaria's face or the drawn shock of Raeden's expression some feet away where he stands with your father, but you find yourself frozen under the prince's observation. "I was told that you did not ask for this arrangement, either, your Grace." At least you remembered to address him properly, this time, even if your voice has dropped to something quiet. "So I would not add insult to the situation by having her lie to you."

He wants you. If for nothing more than to find out if your obstinate passions extend to the bedroom. Oberyn is almost disappointed by this discovery, anticipating finding a mousy, shy wallflower that he could wed and ignore. “I did not.” He admits, although he keeps his words low enough that only you can hear them, squeezing your hand just the tiniest amount. Meant to be a comforting gesture, or at least signal that you have not blundered too badly. “So we have that in common.”

"It remains to be seen if there is anything more than that." You murmur back to him, despising yourself for the heat that you can feel coiling inside you. Animal attraction means nothing. This man is not who you have given your heart and your soul to, and you truly wish that you could communicate that to your body right now.

"Perhaps we should sit." Cersei suggests, looking between every guest in the garden and wondering how exactly this is going to work itself out. The guard that seems to follow you everywhere stands dutifully by like no more than a tentpole and the woman that Oberyn brought is most likely the paramour everyone speaks of, but this train wreck might serve as an entertaining morning before she has to return to the task of preparing for her son's wedding tomorrow.

Glancing over at your guard, Ellaria smirks, finding his eyes not watching Oberyn with hatred and distrust. Those dark eyes are hungry, blinking and letting his eyes find hers for a moment. She doesn’t know why she keeps looking at him, he’s not a threat to her lover or anyone else, but it is like she is compelled to seek out his gaze.

As wounded as your mother is, she cannot discipline you in front of a queen or a prince – let alone both at once – so she sits in the chair that your father holds out for her and smiles primly to the queen from the other end of the table. Etiquette has her sitting in between her useless husband and her insolent daughter, and across from the whore the prince has brought as his companion. A wholly unsuitable place in her mind, but at least she can reach over and pinch you soundly on the hand under the table. Surprised by the move, you nearly yank your hand away after you have been seated, almost laughing at the childishness of it. If you had a toy she might have stolen it out of spite.

Oberyn catches the movement, glancing at you and then towards your mother. Sensing that the woman is not happy with the current tone. “Despite extending the invitation personally, Lord Tywin is not attending this feast?” He asks Cersei, looking around the gardens expectantly.

"My father is spending some much needed time with his grandson the day before his wedding." Cersei answers politely before signaling to the servers to pour wine and leave the pitchers. "Tomorrow is quite a busy day, my lord. As I'm sure you can imagine. Your own nuptials will be much the same, I have no doubt."

Sucking his teeth for a moment, he flashes a bland smile. “Unlike the crown, we focus more on the celebration than the wedding.”

"Oh?" Your mother titters, trying to recover from her earlier embarrassment. "Do enlighten us."

“There is a giant feast where all are welcomed.” He informs her. “From the lowliest bastard to the highest lord. All drinking ale and eating meat pies. Dancing, music, for days.”

Despite needing to be near you for this first meeting, Raeden wishes he could plug his ears to hear no talk of this impending wedding. The most he can hope for, for the moment, is that Ellaria Sand did not poison the prince's ear against him and suggest refusing his services in Dorne.

"For days?" Your mother simpers, already starting to sip the wine that has been poured for her. "My word, that sounds very exciting."

“What do you do if the bride and groom are disinclined to dance?" If you are going to be forced into false gayety, you would prefer to know in advance. At any normal affair, dancing would be your entire occupation. But this wedding? Your own? You cannot see either of you wanting to dance with the other.

Oberyn turns his head towards you, his lips twitching slightly and he is almost amused. “The happy couple are not present.” He tells you, shrugging slightly. “They are in their chamber, doing their duty to Dorne while their people celebrate.”

That effectively shuts you up, your eyes dropping to the plate of food in front of you that suddenly holds no appeal whatsoever. This was easier when you imagined that the Prince of Dorne would be handsome to everyone in the world except you. Now that you are sat across from him and able to see down the length of his loosely tied robe to catch glimpses of deeply tanned, freckled skin, you simply hate yourself as well as the situation.

“The people are very accepting.” Ellaria feels the need to reassure you, watching as your face falls and your expression sours.

"My grandmother always spoke very warmly of her home." It is the best you can do, under the circumstances, though you are surprised that Ellaria would seek to give you any kind of comfort whatsoever. She is the most perplexing kind of woman, and you had spent too much time last night before falling asleep thinking of her. Wondering what she could possibly have considered the outcome of last night's meeting.

Oberyn nods, aware that you have a familial connection to Dorne, despite being from the Vale. “The sand and sun are warm, much warmer than here.” He huffs, reminding everyone at the table that he does not like King’s Landing.

"You will be trading your velvet for something lighter before you know it, my dear." The Queen smiles, though it does not feel warm in any way. When Cersei Lannister smiles you have a distinct impression that there is still a snake hiding behind her teeth ready to strike.

"It took the strength of twenty men to keep her from packing my entire library in her trunks," your father jokes, jovially enjoying his meal as though nothing at all is wrong. "There would not have been any room for gowns whatsoever if we had let her."

“A love of reading is not a curse.” Oberyn shrugs slightly. “I spent much of my time at the Citadel reading the great tomes before I grew bored of the idea of being a maester.”

"A love of reading is not a curse for a man." You can't help but look up, finding the prince looking around the table with a frustratingly leisurely air. "When you are a woman it is a danger and will give you unladylike thoughts. Or worse yet? Opinions of your own."

He arches a brow at your words and tilts his head towards Cersei. “You teach your women such strange things here in the North.” He comments before turning back towards you. “Dornish women are strong, opinionated and not afraid to speak.”

"Well, we have solved the mystery of why Northern men dislike Southern women." Having met Ellaria even once, you can see that strong women are at least not humbled around this one man. "They do not like to be challenged."

Oberyn snorts in amusement and leans back with his wine in his hand. “That is because the women best them in a battle of wits. Most men think with their cock, stomach or both.”

The way your mother looks absolutely affronted to hear such a word out loud nearly throws you into a fit of laughter, but you just barely manage to stifle it. "Well said, your Grace." There is a possibility, albeit a small one, that this man might not make you want to throw yourself off a cliff in frustration after all.

“Well.” Cersei’s smile is tight, frozen on her face. “Shall we eat?” She asks, trying to change the topic. “There is still much to be done today.”

Polite conversation focuses on the nuptials that are impending tomorrow, which quite brightens the queen's mood and turns your mother into a veritable lapdog simpering and agreeing with everything she says while your father says nothing at all and the prince speaks mostly to his lover. As the odd person out at the table, your only solace is that no one has commented to you on your lack of enthusiasm for eating or seemed to notice that occasionally you manage to glance over at Raeden to check in with him. He barely reacts, but the communication between the two of you has been silent for enough years now that you know there will be much to talk about the next time you find a moment alone.

“You like her, my love.” Ellaria’s voice is low, amused at the turn of events. She had thought he might be intrigued by you.

“She is…not what I thought.” Oberyn admits, glancing back at you just as you turn your head to look longingly at your guard.

"Not a wilting wallflower." Ellaria agrees, a smirk tucked into the corner of her mouth as she whispers. "And doing a very poor job of hiding how besotted with her guard she is."

His eyes slide over to the guard and he hums. “I understand her desire.” Oberyn chuckles quietly. “He would look good in our bed.”

"I found myself thinking the same." She finds her eyes drawn to the wall of a man once more, smile growing mischievously when she catches his eye before looking away. "Do you think it will be so difficult to marry her after all?" Ellaria has no fear of losing Oberyn. Their bond is too strong for that and his love too fierce, both for her and for their daughters. But adding a wife into the pattern of their lives will certainly shake things up. More than a little.

“It will be no hardship to bed her.” He watches you glance back at the guard again. “Do you think she carries his bastard?” Oberyn doesn’t care about bastards, he has eight of them that he loves very much and his own soulmate is a bastard, but he would not have you pass off someone else’s child as his.

"It is possible." She certainly wouldn't blame you, if that were the case. He is an extremely handsome man. "It would account for her family's urgency."

He grunts, watching you closely. “She is not eating.”

"Nerves." Ellaria guesses with a shrug. "Or sickness from the babe."

“I will need to know when she last bled.” He decides. “Just a lover or her soulmate?” He asks his own soulmate.

"If it is both, it will account for her anger." It's a characteristic in you that she had noticed last night. That you wear your armor of verbal barbs and half-confidence to hide fear and anger at not being able to determine your own life. She would call you a 'poor child' over it, but you are much older than either of them had expected. For her part, Ellaria is glad about that. "Will you turn her away if she is?" It would certainly be an excuse to end the arrangement, although you would be ruined for another offer.

“No.” Oberyn decides, straightening in his chair. “But she would have the babe before we wed.” Being unmarried, any child born out of wedlock would not be considered to be his legal heir, like his own bastards.

"Not quite the speedy timing that Doran bet on when he bought her for you." Ellaria shakes her head a little. Having a bastard in the north would make you a pariah. In the south, at least, the babe would have ten thousand Sand siblings.

“If she has bled, or is bleeding, we will be wed as soon as Doran wishes.” He shrugs slightly, reaching for her hand to kiss it. “What do you think of her?”

"She's very beautiful." There is no reason to deny that, not when Oberyn has eyes of his own and is already clearly intrigued by you. Instead, Ellaria squeezes his hand slightly and smiles. "And I like her spirit."

“It is surprising to see a Northern woman with a spine.” He hums, smirking slightly.

"I think she grew it in spite of everyone else," Ellaria almost giggles, amused at the thought. "But I admit. I like the look of her lover as well."

“They would both look good in our bed.” He agrees, smirking slightly when the man’s eyes drift over towards him again. “He is either going to attempt to kill me or fuck me.” He tells Ellaria. “He has not decided yet.”

“I do not think even he knows,” she hums in amusement.

The demented nature of the meal is certainly not helping anyone feel relaxed other than perhaps Oberyn and his whore, and when Cersei stands after some time longer she smiles politely. “Do stay as long as it pleases you,” she encourages, not caring whatsoever as long as she doesn’t have to suffer through it. “But there is much to attend to and I am afraid my time is demanded by many today. Good morning.”

Everyone else shoots to their feet, but Oberyn simply nods and reaches for the wine to refill his cup.

“Are you enjoying your stay in King’s Landing, your Grace?” Your father asks after a moment, resettling himself in his chair when he realizes that this morning is certainly not over.

There are many ways to answer that but Oberyn keeps himself from snorting in disdain. “Of course.” He chuckles darkly. “I always enjoy visiting the city where my sister was violently raped, her and her children brutally murdered by the Lannister’s lap dog.” His stare is intense as he looks at your father over the rim of his cup.

The entire table has the wind sucked out of it at that, with your parents looking baffled by the declaration and even Raeden's eyes widening in surprise. "I–I'm very sorry to hear that," you murmur, not even realizing that your hand is over your heart when you say it.

“You didn’t know?” Oberyn asks, lifting a brow in surprise. He would have assumed your family would have coached you in the intricacies of the Martell House. “Elia was married to Rhaegar Targaryen. Her blood was spilt in this keep during the Baratheon rebellion.” He sneers, drowning the rest of his cup and Ellaria reaches out for his wrist gently, trying to calm him.

"I know almost nothing about you." Of course there are plenty of people who know very little about their betrothed ahead of time, but it seems like in this case there should have been a few things mentioned to you in advance.

He relaxes slightly, aware that this is not your fault. “Perhaps you should take a turn around the garden.” Ellaria suggests softly. “Learn about one another.”

"What a wonderful idea. We could all–"

"I think she meant alone, Mother." You interject, having no intention of letting your mother tag along or chaperone this walk in any way, shape, or form. She has done plenty enough damage to you in your life already, the prince does not need to hear her vitriol – or worse, her false adulation.

“She should not be here.” Your mother hisses, unable to contain herself, glaring at Ellaria.

Oberyn’s eye twitches slightly and then he smiles, a twisted curl of his lips that is not handsome at all and displays his displeasure at your mother’s outburst. “My dagger is sharp enough to tame that tongue. My paramour goes wherever I decide she belongs.” He threatens quietly, eyes dark as they slide to her husband. “Control your lady wife or I will be forced to.”

"I think we can leave our daughter with her betrothed." There is nowhere your father wants to be less than around a man who makes that kind of threat, and he stands to offer his hand to his wife. "Stone." The command in his voice is firm. "Remain here and escort her ladyship back to her chambers when she is ready."

Oberyn can tell your mother has never been talked to that way and she doesn’t know how to respond. Instead of paying her any attention, he stands and kisses Ellaria’s hand before walking around the table to offer you assistance in leaving your seat.

One mark in this man's favor will be the way he does not suffer your mother's nonsense, but you still take his hand tentatively. Knowing that Raeden has been instructed to wait for you, not chaperone you, means that you will actually be alone with the prince on your walk and that gives you an unexpected twist of nerves in your stomach that you do not like at all. Apparently, instead of hating this man as you planned to, you are supremely nervous around him.

He doesn’t speak as you stand, your hand in his is surprisingly warm since he had anticipated you being cool with dread. Turning, he guides you towards the edge of the trellis that will take you away from Ellaria and your guard’s sight.

The entire situation feels uncertain, and you wish to all the gods that Raeden could still have been nearby, just for the security of his presence. What do you even speak to this man about? Should you speak at all? Your nerves truly are higher than ever this morning.

“I suppose the gardens are the only thing of true beauty in this city.” Oberyn offers, breaking the silence between you. “Though they do not compare to the water gardens in Dorne, they inspire me to write a poem for my Loreza.”

“You write poetry, my lord?” Focusing on that first, instead of cautiously inquiring who Loreza is, at least gives you hope that there may be some common ground between you. There had been no cause for hope before now.

“I do.” He smiles fondly as he looks over the flowers. “My children enjoy it when I am away.”

“And you have…several children?” The figure you have heard is eight, which has previously made you wonder. But the prince is older than you had expected and eight seems suddenly like not so large of a number.

“Eight daughters.” His smile shifts to something beaming, proud of his girls. “My Sand Snakes.” If you are going to be his wife, it is best you know now that they are not to be neglected or mistreated. “Obara, Nymeria, Tyene, Sarella, Elia, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza.”

“You are very proud of them.” A fact which you find oddly reassuring. Most lords in his position would have paid off the girls’ mothers to disappear already. “Having sisters sounds wonderful,” you offer wistfully. “I have only brothers.”

“I am the youngest of both.” Oberyn offers. “Doran and I are brothers and close, but there was a special bond between Elia and I.”

The name registers with you after hearing it three times now, and a reflexive smile tugs at your lips. “I think there must have been. Since you named one of your daughters after her.”

“Yes.” He’s surprised that you have paid attention; his eyes leaving the flowers to find you looking almost wistful at the idea of a man being so sentimental. “Is your guard your soulmate?” He asks bluntly. “Or just the man you allow between your thighs for the time?”

Your face falls, shoulders rolling in on themselves as though your youngest brother has once again head butted you in the stomach as he used to when he was at his most annoying. You could lie. That is a possibility. But you have lied about it for too long and you are certainly not ashamed of loving Raeden. Shame has never even occurred to you. “He is my soulmate, your Grace,” you nod even though your voice is quiet. If he throws you over for this it will only make him a hypocrite. “And I love him very much.”

“My paramour shares my marks.” Oberyn stops, turning towards you and understanding why you look so conflicted. Neither one of you is being given a choice. Oberyn will not be exiled from his children and you have no control over your own future as a woman and a noble. “Have you bled? Or do you carry your Stone’s bastard? Is that why your father is eager to make this match so hastily?”

“My father makes the match hastily because my mother despises me.” Honesty comes pouring out of you in a way that you cannot seem to stop. For a man that so many call violent, the prince seems to be putting you wholly at ease now. “It was her insistence to send me as far away as possible. I—I bled before we left the Vale. I am not with child, if that is your concern.”

He watches you for a long moment, your eyes not shifting away. The truth burns in them and reflects from their depths. Making you even lovelier than you first appeared. He frowns slightly and reaches out to caress your cheek, pushing back some hairs that have escaped the pins. “Then you will bring your mate back to Dorne with us when we leave.” He decides. “I am a man who does not mind sharing my lovers. I will never bar Ellaria from my bed and it would be wholly unfair of me to bar your Stone from it as well.” He smirks slightly when your eyes widen. “He is a very handsome man.”

“You mean to—” That temporary wave of comfort is replaced by naked shock as you try to wrap your mind around what the prince is suggesting. Nevermind the fact that his fingers on your face are so warm that a pinch of disappointment in yourself twists at your heart again. “He is not…inclined that way.” You finally manage to stammer out. The idea of sharing had simply not occurred to you and now you are flustered by it.

“Pity.” There’s some doubt in his mind but you are more intimate with the man than he is. “It would have made our time together much sweeter.”

“So you…you do not intend to separate us?” That thought had never passed your mind even once, always assuming that you would be forced to deny Raeden with the prince as you have been forced to deny him with your father.

“When you give birth to my heir, I expect the child to be from my seed.” He answers honestly. “I bring my paramour where I wish, she is my soulmate. The future princess of Dorne will have the same luxury.” It is simple in his mind. You will have his heir and strengthen the alliance Doran wants, then you will be free to share his bed or keep to your own with your lover. “What is his name?”

“Raeden, your Grace.” It will be your torture to deal with the fact that visiting this man’s bed does not seem horrible after meeting him, but you swallow down your guilt for now. This is about keeping your soulmate safe. Safe from the hateful hands of your mother, who would see his head on a pike if she had any real evidence of your affair. “He saved my life, years ago, and my father gave him a place in our guard as a reward, so he is Ser Raeden Stone.”

“Ser Raeden Stone.” Oberyn smirks slightly and steps closer to you. “I had been convinced that it would be impossible to bed you, to fuck you,” he admits softly. “And I am a man of great appetite.” His dark eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment but he does not lean in to steal a kiss. “Now I will be pondering how often I can convince you to join me in my bed without your Ser Raeden Stone.”

The shock must be written on your face, because he chuckles lightly when your lips move but no sound comes out right away. “You—” Even the one word cracks, and you have to long away to compose yourself. “You are entitled to demand companionship whenever you wish it, your Grace.” It is simply a fact, although not one that you agree with. But as your husband he could simply order you to his bed and that would be that.

Oberyn snorts and shakes his head. “I pay, I seduce, and extend an invitation.” He tells you. “I do not order it.” He chuckles slightly at your shock and confusion. “There are many who will jump into my bed, and do. I have no need of forcing anyone to take my cock.”

"So you would not force me?" That, if you are being completely honest with yourself, has been one of your greatest fears. The idea of forced intimacy seemed inevitable once you were made to marry.

“I would not force the lowest whore.” He scoffs. “Why would I force a woman that bears my name? If you never share my bed, you will be barren to all. As long as you do not bear your Stone’s bastards.”

"I understand." That tea that you had been drinking for years now seems more valuable than ever, and the mix of gratitude and shame for even thinking such a thing swirls in your blood like a sickness. If this prince is any indication of what men in the south are like, you will vastly prefer that setting in many ways.

He’s slightly disappointed in your reaction and he drops his hand from your face and turns to resume the walk again. “What else do you wish to know?”

He does not exactly mask his emotions well, and it is obvious to see that you have either upset or disappointed him, though what you possibly could have done wrong is beyond you. Hadn't you just said that you would obey his wishes? "When do you intend to leave once more for Dorne?" Whenever it is, it will be the last glimpse of the north you have for a very long while. Perhaps for your entire life. So you would like to be able to plan for it rather than being yanked away.

“As soon as I have recovered from the wedding celebrations.” He grunts. “I will be much pleased to put this stinking shit pile of a city behind me.”

"Is there anything you wish to know of me?" He does seem somewhat upset, and you have no wish whatsoever to anger him on this walk or make him take back any of the promises he has made you.

“When did you find out your Stone was your soulmate?” He is always curious about the dealing of soulmates. It is an intrigue that there is not more effort out into finding the people who share your marks among nobility.

"After he saved my life." Wishing that he had not taken his hand away, you clasp your own together as you walk. "The boar that intended to gut me ended up digging into his leg instead. When the scar from that wound appeared on my own thigh, I went to him immediately."

“And you have been secret lovers ever since.” He hums, finding the story to be sweet and innocent, much like you appeared to be.

"It did not start right away." You tell him, finding again that the urge to be honest is overwhelming. "His sense of propriety is admirable. But we found quickly that we could not keep away from each other."

“The bond between soulmates is irrefutable.” Oberyn can understand that. Ellaria had quickly become his sun and world after meeting her. The chance encounter that had taken her from nearly being a whore to nearly being a princess. “It is impossible to stay away from your soulmate once you know them.”

"It truly is." And you count yourself extremely lucky, in this moment, that he understands that. "Raeden is a good man, and a loyal one. Intelligent and kind. I think..." You raise your head again, bold enough to find him watching you as you walk. "It may be presumptuous to suggest, but I would hope that there could be a way for the two of you to be friendly with each other. Just as I would hope that there could be a way for me to be friendly with your soulmate." After meeting her last night you have left shaken and concerned. But first impressions are not everything.

“There is only one way to determine that.” Oberyn counters, not unkindly. “We will have to spend time together. Ellaria has already expressed an interest in learning more about you and your guard.”

"She seems very interesting." Complex was the word you had ascribed to her already and it seemed to hold true. "And you...you love her very much, I think." Which should not cloud your heart the way it does. Not when he has been so kind and open with you. "And she is the mother of some of your children. So it would be...neglectful, I think, to not extend a hand of friendship to her."

“She is a warm, compassionate woman.” Oberyn promises you. “Loyal like your Stone and loving.” He chuckles. “She also finds you fetching.”

"She is very beautiful." For your entire life you would have given almost anything to be as stunning as that. Ellaria is self-assured and magnetic. You are lucky if you can affect those things for long enough to get through a confrontation. "That is very kind of her to say...especially considering I would not blame her at all if she decided to despise me."

“She would not despise you, unless you hurt me or the children.” Ellaria is protective over those she loves, more so than over herself but she knows that Oberyn will protect her. “She knows you have no real interest in becoming my Princess.”

"If I had been allowed to choose my own destiny, I would have married Raeden long ago." There is no harm in admitting that to him, as you are certain beyond a doubt that he would have married Ellaria if he had been given the opportunity.

Oberyn hums, understanding what you mean. “The titles we bear are often burdens, even with the freedoms they allow.”

"There are as many constraints as there are advantages." You nod as you walk together. "I would not ask you to forsake her." Not that you would truly be able to stop him if that is what he desired. Most men do not take the opinions of their wives into account. "That would be unthinkably cruel, in my mind."

“Then you understand why I have no wish to separate you from your Raeden.” Oberyn states. “There needs to be more love in the world, not less.”

"I do understand. But I admit that it surprises me. Most men I have known would sooner be rid of their wife's lover." Having lost track of how long you've been walking, you find yourselves near the sea wall and the scent instantly relaxes you. "I am grateful that you do not seem to be like most men."

“I am not most men.” He assures you with a chuckle. “I would fuck your lover. Have my cock deep in his ass so you could feel me as he fills your cunt. Or share you. Each of our cocks filling one of your holes as you screamed in pleasure.”

The sheer, unbridled honesty of it stops you dead in your tracks, staring at him with the same expression of shock as if he had just confessed to murder. Although your body's response is much different – pulse jumping and blood streaking quickly through your veins making you both flustered and inexplicably aroused. "I—" As surprised as you are, he seems equally amused as more truth tumbles from your lips. "I have only ever been with him, my lord. In that way."

“Of course you have.” Oberyn doubts you are free with your cunt. If you were, you would have no issue taking Oberyn into your bed, you might have even anticipated it. “Just like I am sure you have never had a woman lick your cunt.”

Before now, having taken a lover at all made you particularly promiscuous. But now you feel positively like the most legendary of whores and liars as you shake your head. For two women to embrace would be shameful – yet according to the septa who taught you all manner of difficult lessons about this life, it is not to be compared to laying with a man. "Never." The lie tastes sour in your mouth, but it is done. The shame that you have never spoken of to anyone remains unsaid.

“It is a beautiful sight,” he promises, cock twitching under his robes. “The sight of two women giving each other pleasure. A woman knows how she likes to be touched. Just like a man knows how he likes his cock sucked.”

"And that is something...that you would...wish me to do?" It is a troubling idea to wrap your head around, and you now know that he would not force you to share anyone's bed. Not even his own. But trying to know this man better seems to include understanding his sexual appetite. In the south, perhaps, their shames are different.

“It would be something you could explore if you wished.” He corrects you. “If you wanted to be with Ellaria or another woman, a whore we bought or someone you have an interest in, there would be no rebuke.”

"It is not something that should ever have crossed the mind of a northern noblewoman." The evasive way you skirt admitting your secret seems not to phase him, thank the gods in all their heavens, and you promptly shut your mouth again so as not to ramble and expose yourself.

“I doubt you have been exposed to such things.” He hums quietly, aware of how most Northern women are raised.

"It is..." You sigh slightly. "To say that it is looked down upon would be an understatement."

“The North is so…boring.” Oberyn agrees. “Limiting pleasure and judging is not something I am a part of.”

“Then I find myself very grateful that your brother and my father made the arrangement that they did.” For all you can tell, this next chapter in your life may wind up being far less dreadful and far more freeing than you could ever have imagined. “And I will do my best not to be a disappointment to you.”

He nods but he doesn’t say anything. You seem to have decided that the marriage will be in name only and he will not fight you on that, but it is disappointing. “We will decide how to arrange things when we get back to Sunspear. My brother lives at the Water Gardens most days now.”

“Until meeting you, I was not under the impression that I would have any choice.” That is how it would have been if your parents had married you to a northern lord, anyway. “I assumed I would eat and sleep where I am told and do as my husband bids me. That is…before this morning, the only expectation I have had for my marriage.” You shrug slightly, almost shaking your head at yourself. “So you can see why I have not been exactly excited for the prospect. But you…” The words you are looking for elude you, and you end up feeling embarrassed at not being able to articulate yourself. “I am optimistic enough to hope for more than a contact, now that I have met you.”

“That remains up to you.” The table comes back into view and Oberyn smirks as he finds Ellaria leaning into a now seated Raeden as she pours him a cup of wine while she talks. He cannot hear what she is saying, but there is an air of seduction that he recognizes.

The picture in front of you would likely have tickled that reflex of jealousy in all devoted lovers if you did not have a better idea of the way the prince and his soulmate view promiscuity. Now that you have touched on the topic together even just barely, you can breathe much more easily. No one is attempting to steal away a lover or to toy with a reputation. Sex seems simply to be the Prince’s favored hobby. “We will see you both tomorrow, then?” The morning wedding is sure to be a long and tedious service, as all royal ceremonies are, but at least the company will not be bad if you are able to spend a small amount of time with him.

“Tomorrow.” Ellaria unwinds herself from her seat and stands, smirking as Oberyn strides towards her with a very hot blooded look. He’s been affected by you. The prince drags her into his arms and she moans softly when he fuses his lips to hers in a movement that reveals the frustration he must have kept hidden during your talk. Once she has him alone, she will ascertain what has caused such a reaction.

They are extremely passionate people, there is no denying that, and you clear your throat gently before stepping away to give them some semblance of privacy. Raeden had stood after Ellaria and stepped out from the table, and you are at his side like a magnet. “Did you have an interesting visit with our friend?” You ask quietly, wishing it was safe enough to kiss him as Ellaria does the prince.

Raeden’s eyes shift back towards the pair, swallowing slightly and feeling incredibly guilty for the attraction he has to both the prince and his paramour. He is drawn to Ellaria, much the same as he had been you and it is confusing. His attraction to the prince is shameful, one he tries to ignore. “She is…open.” He settles for that as he wishes he could look away from them.

"He says that she likes you." The relief you feel after speaking to the prince is overwhelming, and you almost laugh as you shake your head. "I cannot blame her for having excellent taste."

“She is a very beautiful woman.” Raeden admits, albeit reluctantly. He doesn’t ever look at other women. There is no one that could possibly compare to you, until now.

"My love." He is looking anywhere but at you, and right now you are too full of news to realize why that might be. You are taking his hands tightly in both of yours before he can draw away, despite being out in the open. "He does not intend to separate us. We will have nothing to fear in Dorne."

“Truly?” His eyes widen and finally rip away from the lovers to look at you in shock. “He— he will allow me to come with you? To continue as we are?”

Your nearly ecstatic nodding does have conditions, of course, but you squeeze his hands tightly. "He would even allow me to bear your child. It...it would not just be a dream any longer."

“How?” Raeden frowns, unable to believe a man, a husband, would allow you to bear your bastard lover’s bastard. Especially when he is a prince.

"In the usual way." Is your cheeky answer, but Raeden's face is not one of laughter and your smile falls in turn. "If I visit his bed and give him an heir, he would not shame me afterward for also bearing your child. It is far more than any other man would allow."

“No.” Raeden shakes his head. “I will not have you do that for me.” He insists, squeezing your hands. “It is– it is more than I can ask of you. I do not wish you to force yourself to lie with him.”

"Would you try to forbid me if I did it of my own free will?" The prince is extremely handsome, after all, and you are more than certain that there was some kind of clause in the marriage contract your father signed that will require you to birth an heir anyway. If you are entirely honest with yourself, it would not be a hardship to lie with the prince. Since meeting Raeden, no one had turned your head for more than a mere glance. Now you find your thoughts to be full of possibilities for pleasure.

“I–…no.” Raeden shakes his head, lifting his brows. “My love– are you– do you wish to sleep with the prince?” He asks softly and his eyes slide back to where Oberyn and Ellaria are still deep in their embrace.

"He...is very handsome." It's not an answer, but you do not know whether or not you could give an honest answer right now. Your mind is too muddled by the surprise of attraction. "But I do not know him well enough to say."

“You will be his wife.” He reminds you gently. “He can have you in his bed whenever he wishes.”

"He said he would not force me." Which is another source of great relief, as you are sure he can understand.

“He said that?” Shocked again, the caliber of the man is becoming very obvious. “He– the rumor is that he has fucked half of Westeros.”

"It seems that those conquests have all been by choice." Which makes a smile twitch at the corner of your mouth, but you shake it away. "He also said that he and Ellaria would happily welcome both of us to their bed, but I informed him that I did not think you are not inclined that way."

Raeden’s heart stops, freezing in place and stiffening as he wants to immediately protest and say yes. Shamed that it is almost gleeful in the way his cock twitches, he is glad he is not pressed against you.

"Have I–done wrong?" The way he seems to become a statue on the spot is alarming to say the least. "Are you...you did not...mention finding Ellaria attractive after our encounter last night. I did not think...?" It's surprising that you do not feel jealous, but instead worried that he might be upset with you.

“It is nothing.” He makes himself relax and shakes his head. “I was only…surprised.”

"Please do not lie to me." After feeling the compulsion to be completely honest with the prince, it is an alarming feeling to have Raeden withhold the truth.

“I–” he looks into your eyes and he shakes his head. “I cannot speak about this with you now.” He admits quietly. “I– you will not understand.”

"I would understand perfectly if you thought Ellaria was beautiful." But since you also respect the topic enough not to push it now - in public - what remains is only for you to be hurt by the idea that your soulmate does not think he can trust you with something. For the moment you can only push it away. "We will be leaving for Dorne as quickly after the wedding as the prince is ready," you tell him instead, changing the subject all together. "It may be as little as two days before we are traveling again."

“I will be ready as soon as you are.” Raeden promises. He had determined that he would be going to Dorne no matter what. Relieved that you are dropping the subject, he tries to avoid looking back at the couple as he squeezes your hands. “Where you go, I will be there.”

******

Saying a temporary goodbye to the pair from Dorne, Raeden escorts you through the halls of the Red Keep once more to the chambers that you are sharing with your parents. You have every intention of spending the rest of the day reading and repacking your trunk to be ready to leave a moment's notice – eager to be off somewhere where you would be able to love your soulmate openly and be afforded the freedom of choosing who you wish to spend your time with.

“Once you are in your rooms, I will make sure that I have my things ready.” Raeden promises you quietly. He wants to be ready whenever the prince is ready.

"The journey to Sunspear will be long, but far less tedious than the journey from the Vale." Inside again, with your parents near, you don't reach to squeeze his hand or kiss his cheek. Instead you offer Raeden a reassuring smile and move through the small sitting room to the room you have been sleeping in. Only to find it very much occupied by the last person in the world you ever want to find near your bed.

“You can leave.” Your mother spits at Raeden. “I doubt my daughter needs protecting in her chambers.”

"With you here, I very well might." You tell her honestly, but still you turn to Raeden with a resigned expression on your face. "Go and pack," you suggest to him instead. "We want to be ready as soon as the prince wishes to depart."

“How dare you talk to me that way!” Your mother screeches in utter dismay, flying to her feet and obviously ready to impose her wrath on you. “You little bitch!”

When she flies at you she obviously expects you to be either too astonished or too demure to react at all. Any of your governesses would have known better – having seen you duck away from your older brothers' torment dozens upon dozens of times. You had been plunged bodily into too many stone walls in your youth and now veer out of the way immediately so that it was your mother who collided with the wall instead of pushing you into it. "What has possessed you?" At least your voice is shocked, punctuated by a small oof when Raeden catches you before you can stumble to the ground in an effort to flee from the attack.

“You had to humiliate your father!” She bellows, even though her anger and rage has nothing to do with your father and everything to do with your embarrassment of her. “I did not raise such an opinionated bitch!”

"You did not raise me at all!" Standing again, your hand holds fast to Raeden's for security. "What is it precisely that you are accusing me of, Mother?" Presumably she is angry about being embarrassed in front of the prince, but pretending it is about your father is imbecilic.

“You made me look like a fool! Unable to keep that stupid tongue inside your head and just act like the lady you are supposed to be!” She fumes, glaring at you as if you are shit on the bottom of her shoe.

"I am very much a lady. A lady who will be the Princess of Dorne in just a few weeks' time. And so I refuse to continually be insulted by you." At this point you had expected to return to your chambers and put up with your mother's hate for only a little while longer, but the gods did not have that in mind for you, it seems. "If you were under some illusion that you would still be able to control me from across the continent, you are sorely mistaken."

“I should have drowned you the moment you slipped from my womb!” She hisses, rushing towards you again and drawing her hand back to land a vicious slap on your cheek. “I will kill you now!”

If it were the first time she had ever laid a hand on you, or the first time she had ever expressed regret at not killing you at birth, you might have been shocked. Unfortunately the impact of those vile actions had long since faded away and it is only the fact that she is running at you again that surprises you. This time it’s enough for you to burrow yourself into Raeden’s broad frame – barely moving to his side in time for him to draw his blade in her direction with the tip mere inches from her chest.

“You will stop, my lady.” His voice is deep, and firm, brokering no question or argument as fire flashes in his eyes. “I do not wish to hurt you but if it is the only way to protect her, I will have no choice.”

“Bastard.” She spits in his face and then her face freezes and the evil, manical look in her eyes blooms happily. “I will not kill you.” She tells you with a sugary sweet voice, reaching up and grabbing a sleeve of her own gown so it rips. “I will have your lover killed.” She threatens. “Beaten and beheaded in front of you to scream and mourn for all your days.” Her laugh is hollow and grating as she rips the front of her bodice and drags her hands through her hair to wreck her carefully styled look.

“I wonder how you will do that if we are not here to be commanded by you.” If you had not met him today, if you had not seen the good and just man that Oberyn Martell is with your own two eyes, you would have feared for Raeden’s life at this moment. You truly would have believed that she could get her claws deeply enough into him to take him away. Now, you know there is someplace safe that you can go. Looking back at him, you quickly grasp his free hand with determination. “We are leaving, my love.” Without a single one of your things, or his, which you’re sure she will destroy in a rage, you must go now before she has a chance to spread her vile lies.

Screaming, your mother rushes after you but in a moment of providence surely gifted by the gods, both old and new, she trips on one of the silk rugs and collapses to the floor.

“Run!” If you are lucky, you can find the prince and Ellaria before they are too far from the Red Keep. If you are even luckier, you might find your father during your escape to tell him the truth of what his wife has done. It will be up to the gods whether or not he believes you, but you will certainly be writing to your brothers just as soon as you stop shaking and find safety.

Raeden heeds your command. Holding your hand tight, he leads the way. Rushing through the halls and out of the keep through a servants door. Ignoring the turned heads as he attempts to lead you to safety, though your heavy gown makes running slower for you.

Down stairs, around corners, through paths crowded with servants and tradespeople until you are far enough away from the Keep to be certain that neither of your parents can catch up to you but equally certain that the prince is nowhere to be found.

“Did she tell you how to find them?” You are panting, not having ever run frantically for your life before, but even as you slow down you don’t stop. There can be no stopping. “Did Ellaria tell you where their lodging is?”

“She did.” Raeden nods, frowning because he is uncomfortable with where he must take you. “They are staying at a brothel in Flea Bottom.” He stops and rips his cloak off to drape over your shoulders. “You will need this to hide your finery.”

"I promise to you that when I apologize to you properly for this later, I will do everything I can to make it up to you." This decision did not only affect you, but it has torn him away from his life and his worldly possessions, as well. You may as well be bandits on the run for the punishment you would face if you were caught – for surely the uninformed observer would believe your mother's tale if you cannot reach safety before she is able to spin her web of lies for someone in authority. "But there is no time now." As soon as his cloak is around your shoulders, you are running again: as swiftly as your muscles can bear.

______

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[lilac-ravenclaw]

50 OC Questions

These are questions are from @localravenclaw ‘s post. Thanks so much for reading; I would love to read about other MCs!🪻

1. Describe your OC's physical appearance in detail.

She is both Latina (on her father’s side, he was from South America) and British (on her mother’s side). She has long black hair that is usually in a French braid and draped over her shoulder. It’s very wavy when out of the braid. She has lilac color eyes, honestly I haven’t decided from which parent she got them from. She has tan skin and a tiny freckle high on her left cheek, just below her eye. She is petite and has a hourglass figure. She does have a few light scars on her back. The caretaker at the orphanage would verbally and physically “discipline” the children. Raven would try to step in so none of the littler kids would be hurt. She is self conscious about anyone seeing them.

2. Why'd you choose your OC's name?

For most RPGs, my character is always named “Raven”, so for HL it wasn’t any different lol. For her last name, honestly, it was an inside joke. I love the 70s show Fawlty Towers, with John Cleese. It only ran for about a dozen episodes but it’s hilarious. It was the first last name I could think of😄

3. How does your OC feel about their birthday?

Her birthday is Jan. 29, 1874, and she only cares about to a bit because her favorite poem, The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe, was first published on that day in 1845. She only starts to care more when Sebastian gives her a birthday gift in their sixth year, which are tiny gold snake earrings. It was her first ever birthday gift ever. (Side note: my birthday is also Jan. 29. I tried to think of another day but making her an Aquarius too just felt right ♒️)

4. How does your OC and their parents get along?

Unfortunately, Raven doesn’t know who her family is. She lived at the orphanage as long as she can remember. She won’t go looking for them, as she figures they would’ve already have come back for her at some point. In my story for her, the caretaker gave her the last name “Fawlty”, (and yes misspelling it on purpose) as another way to torment her. Though she keeps the name to prove to others that she isn’t “faulty”.

5. What's something you'd never put your OC through again?

Being alone. She has too many people around her that genuinely cares. Especially with having Sebastian in her life, she will never be alone again.

6. What's your OC's go-to comfort meal?

Breakfast foods. All kinds, pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, grilled tomatoes, and toast. There’s just something about a nice breakfast that makes Raven feel warm and cozy. It’s the simple things in life🍳

7. What career path would your OC take?

Though she feels it’s expected for her to be an Auror, Curse Breaker or working for the Ministry. Ultimately she has a love for music, specifically singing. She does try out for the choir at Hogwarts. The only person who knew was Poppy and she gave Raven the courage needed to try out their sixth year (now that she wasn’t in the middle of stopping a goblin rebellion!). She also knows how to play the piano too, and taught herself to play, however, she doesn’t know how to read sheets of music. 🎼

8. What's something your OC can't do?

Can’t say no to someone who needs help. Since no one was really there for her growing up at the orphanage, she believes that no one should feel helpless no matter the size of the problem. If she can help, she will!

9. What is your OC's ideal romantic partner?

Someone who will stand by her side and love her no matter what. They make her feel like she does belong and won’t be judged. They believe in her and encourage her to do what makes her happy.

10. Does your OC like to spend time alone or with others more?

Honestly, Raven can go either way. She loves spending time with her friends, especially Sebastian, and does prefer her close circle of friends. Though she is content with taking time for herself by either reading a good book, or practicing her music in the Room of Requirement.

11. What time does your OC usually go to sleep?

Depends really, school nights she’ll try to go to sleep at a decent time, if there isn’t too much homework. On weekends or summertime she’ll stay up late with Sebastian or hanging out with other friends.

12. Where in the sibling order is your OC?

Unknown, as far as she’s aware she is an only child.

13. What's the worst thing your OC's ever done?

Harming the orphanage caretaker. The caretaker was “disciplining” one of the smaller children and accusing them of stealing something from her room. Raven had just about enough of it with her and wished a bookshelf to fly across the room and slam into her. Everything had happened so fast and it took a moment for her to realize that’s exactly what happened. All the other children had looked at her with wide eyes and she quickly grabbed what few possessions she had and ran away. That was a few days before Professor Fig had come to the orphanage to gift Raven her Hogwarts letter. He was able to find her hiding out at a near by in a couple days later.

14. What would it take for your OC to kill someone?

By them hurting someone she loved/cared very dearly about.

15. What item does your OC hold most dear?

A copper cameo brooch given by Sebastian. It was a Christmas present, and was surrounded by little pearls and had the Ancient Magic symbol engraved in the center. She has worn it everyday since.

16. How does your OC unwind?

Practicing her singing and playing piano. She does want to learn how to read sheet music, but ends up just playing from the heart. Of course reading! Broom flying as well, as she finds it therapeutic. Even just relaxing with Sebastian in the Room of Requirement or Undercroft.

17. What's your OC's star sign?

Aquarius! Aquarians are intellectual, curious and can be deeply social. They are represented by the Star card in the tarot. They are determined to make a powerful difference in the world. ♒️

18. What kind of drunk is your OC?

She doesn’t normally drink, but she would be very chatty and giggly.

19. Who does your OC end up with?

Sebastian Sallow. He is her whole world and everything comes naturally with him. Her day doesn’t feel complete until she’s shared it with him. With him she feels anywhere they go, she’ll always be home.

20. Who is your OC's role model?

Professor Fig. He was her first father figure and the first to believe and guide her through such a challenging time. Not only with simply learning how to be a proper witch, but helping her learn about Ancient Magic and taking on a goblin rebellion.

21. Is your OC big on revenge?

Not necessarily. If she can, Raven will tell said person how she feels right then. If it’s minor she won’t go out of her way to get back at them. If it’s critical then she will do what it takes to get back at them.

22. If your OC ever got the chance, would they go back in time? When would they go?

Ultimately no she wouldn’t go back. Through her hardships growing up she believes it made her the woman she is. Though if she could go back, it would be to try and save both Lodgok and Professor Fig.

23. What's your OC's favourite memory?

Getting her Hogwarts letter would be one. She always felt there was something more to her life but didn’t fully understand what. The picnic her and Sebastian went on the summer before their sixth year. They had finally confessed their feelings for each other and had their first kiss.

24. Will your OC ever admit to being wrong?

Always! No one wants to admit they’re wrong but Raven knows it’s the right thing to do. She feels it’s better to put her feelings aside and admit when something is her fault and go from there. Except with Imelda, because she finds it funny to get her all riled up over nothing, especially when it comes to quidditch.

25. Is your OC doomed by the narrative?

Possibly. Not sure where the next game is going to go. All these little things I wrote about Raven is for me only and I fully look forward to see what will happen in the sequel!

26. Would your OC get along with you?

I would think so!☺️

27. What's one thing your OC will never get over?

Her fear of being alone and losing everyone she loves. She went from having no one to having a family in such a short time. To have that all taken away would be heart breaking.

28. Is your OC going to make it?

I’d like to think so. She’s been through so much but each time becomes stronger from it. Plus it helps to have the love of her life by her side. Sebastian gives her that extra boost of strength she didn’t know she needed.

29. Does your OC look their age?

Yes!✨

30. What weird pet would your OC have?

She has a pet Flying Fox Bat named Agnes since her seventh year. They can have a five foot wing span, and she’s basically as long as Raven is tall. So it took a bit for Sebastian to come around with her keeping Agnes. But Agnes is a bit sweetheart and loves being part of the family. Mini story of Agnes was she was living in captivity at the London Zoo and escaped one day. Making her way to the Forbidden Forest, Raven found her alone while taking a hike late one evening. They had an immediate connection and she’s taken care of her ever since. 🦇

31. Does your OC care a lot about their appearance?

Yes and no. Personal hygiene of course. Brushing a braiding her hair, definitely. If it’s a regular day then she does not mind wearing a casual outfit. Going out on a date with Sebastian, then she’ll put on a little makeup and get dolled up more because… why not?💄

32. What's one food your OC can't stand?

French Onion Soup. It was what was mostly served at the orphanage. Yuck!

33. What animal do people associate your OC with?

Probably the same as her Patronus, which is a black bear. That animal is known for their adaptability and resourcefulness. Others will see her as a fierce opponent who will protect herself and those close to her. Only those close to her will know of that softer side she usually keeps hidden away.

34. What's your OC's "thing"?

Depends on what the “thing” refers to… 😅🤔 if it’s behavioral then it’s fiddling with her braid when she’s nervous and can’t figure out what to say, thus being an awkward mess. If it’s material then probably her cameo brooch. If it’s physical then her lilac eyes of course!

35. Random fact about your OC

Despite being Latina, she doesn’t speak Spanish. Because Raven doesn’t know where part of her heritage comes from she never learned.

36. Would your OC sleep with a clone of themself?

…no…🫣

37. What part of yourself do you love in your OC?

Her loyalty to her the people she loves/cares about the most.

38. What's the lowest point in your OC's life?

After being “disciplined” crying herself to sleep and feeling so alone. Wishing and dreaming of a better tomorrow.

39. What's your OC's biggest achievement?

Finding a family. She believes family isn’t about blood, but finding people who will always be there no matter what and accept you for who you are.

40. Does your OC ever go back home?

She considered her “home” to be wherever Sebastian is. The orphanage was never her home.

41. How would your OC adapt to the modern world?

Since she loves music so much I think so. There’s so much emotion to express through music. With that I think she can adapt pretty quickly.

42. Does your OC have any unique talents?

As stated, she sings and plays piano. 🎤🎹 Though it takes a long time to finally share that passion with others.

43. Does your OC exist in canon or AU timeline?

Canon, I think.

44. Is your OC a people person?

Only with those in her inner circle. She will be cordial to others, unless they’re rude to her and then they won’t be worth her time anymore.

45. Did your OC ever have an alternative name?

Whatever her birth name was, but she’ll never know.

46. Does your OC possess any special powers?

Just being able to wield Ancient Magic.✨

47. Is your OC allergic to anything?

Just to people who are rude and mean to others for no reason.

48. Does your OC have a lot of uncommon knowledge? How do they know it?

I guess knowing able everyday muggle things that would seem weird to other people only growing up in the wizarding world.

49. Does your OC have any scars or birthmarks with an interesting story?

She has some scares from being “disciplined”, thankfully she can cover them with everyday clothes.

50. What do you love and hate most about your OC?

I hate that she isn’t real and that the wizarding world isn’t real😆 Otherwise no, I don’t nor can I hate Raven. I love her courage and kindness. That she’ll fight no matter hard things may seem, and always get back up after falling down. She’s had to overcome so much and was alone for so long but now she has a family.🪻💜

If you have finished reading then thank you so much!💜

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC Origins

Thanks @mundanemoongirl for the tag!

Rules: post the origins of a few OCs!

These will be long because I over-explain, so I'm just doing Lexi and Maddie.

Lexi

Lexi was the first character I made for TSP back in Spring 2013. Her name was originally Alexia Redinés and she looked exactly like me but she had longer hair (which she wore in braids). She wore a red dress and was 10 years old. TSP was originally a school project where we had to write a 2+ page fictional story in the first person. We planned the story alongside the narrator, so that's why Alexia was created first. She didn't have much personality to speak of, but you can find the original TSP here. Alexia was a bit of a Mary Sue, as typical of self-inserts especially considering how young I was. Her surname became Morgan in just Draft Two, she started to occasionally be called Lexi in Draft Three, and the nickname became permanent in Draft Four. However, in the weird time between Drafts 1-2, I think her surname was Sparks. She always had teleportation, though it originally appeared as pink, not teal - it wasn't teal until Draft Four. Lexi was aged up to 13 in Draft Three, where it stayed until technically Draft Five where her birthday wasn't until the end of Part One. I also got rid of her glasses. Lexi began to gain more personality in Draft Four, where she slowly started to deviate from her original Mary Sue self-insert, until Draft Five where she got a complete makeover in her personality. Now, she's more extraverted, organized, confident, and observant - some of these traits happened in Draft Four during her Drift, and were just not emphasized until Draft Five. Draft Five is also when I changed her design: I tweaked Lexi's race to give her Sector 9 heritage (equivalent to Native American - in her case Cherokee and Comanche backgrounds), I grew out her bangs and gave her braids to play with instead, I changed her magenta hoodie to a yellow one (at least what she wears for most of Part One - the magenta one does make an appearance, and it was heather gray at one point), and gave her boots and gloves.

Maddie

Maddie was created a short time after Lexi. In Draft One, she was a minor character - Lexi's 8-year-old sister named Kelly. Kelly would have been the central character in the second installment - then called The Next Sorcerer, though I haven't found this yet. Kelly looked like my own sister with longer hair (which she wore in a high ponytail) originally, and she also didn't have much of a personality. I think she wore a regular T-shirt and shorts which was her wardrobe for a while. Her original powers were a specific form of telepathy where she could create telepathic links between two or more people. In Draft Two, my sister objected that "her character" was named Kelly and recommended the name Zarina (which they got from Tinker Bell Pirate Fairy movie) which I immediately shut down. So they went with Madison. I settled on the name Maddie almost immediately. Although she originally requested telepathy, she now wanted Maddie to have animal morphing, which I obliged. Maddie was aged up alongside Lexi to be eleven in Draft Three, her surname became Morgan at the same time Lexi's did of course, and she didn't have much personality either until around the same time. Draft Two Maddie, who narrated the second book, was actually a little whiny, though I'm not sure how intentional this was on my part. In Draft Four, I tried my best to write Maddie in a different way, though deep into writing Part Two, I realized Maddie was a Mary Sue - much more than Lexi used to be. I realized Maddie received no consequences for her actions and rewrote a large chunk of the book to include it. Draft Five, whose biggest difference from Four was character, was where Maddie saw a huge shift in personality. Obviously her ethnicity changed, and I also gave her much longer hair. Her hair became longer than it used to be in Draft Four, but in Draft Five I had it down past her hips. Her glasses disappeared in Draft Four I believe. Her wardrobe switched to overalls, though she kept boots and her color palette. Personality-wise, Maddie became more scientifically-minded, more physical, more inquisitive, etc. I also made her autism-coding intentional.

And there you have it, folks!

Tagging @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @eccaiia @the-golden-comet @ceph-the-ghost-writer @space-writes

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Choices

pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC

summary: When Aemma passed away during childbirth Viserys was faced with two choices, either wed the daughter of his Hand Alicent Hightower or Elna Stark, the daughter of the north.

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: Fluff

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Elna straightened her back fixing her furs that were too heavy and made her sweat in the heat of King's Landing, she wanted this to be over soon so she could take off her furs.

"Welcome Lord Stark" Otto Hightower greeted Elna's father with a fake smile on his face, she knew her father brought her here to challenge Otto so the King will marry her instead of Alicent.

"Thank you, Lord Hand, can you show us the way around, I fear I have exhausted myself with this trip" Her father nodded back. His words were a lie, he was as strong as a horse and such a trip never tired him out but he did not want to be in Otto's company.

"Of course and this maiden shall show Lady Stark the way to her room" Otto flicked his finger making one of the girls behind him scramble over to Elna. He did not even bother bringing his own daughter to greet them which was a way to show disrespect.

"This way, my Lady" The maiden led the way away from the med. Elna's own handmaiden followed with her famous glare on her face, she was a hard person and very professional unlike Elna.

"This shall be your chamber, my lady" The handmaiden opened the doors to a room just as big as her own in Winterfell. She thanked her and walked throwing her furs off.

"Shall I prepare a bath, my Lady?" Her handmaiden asked. Elna nodded her head. She proceeded to untie the strings holding her corset together. Her dress fell down on the floor in a heap followed by her small cloth leaving her bare as her handmaiden spilled the last bucket of water in the tub.

Elna let out a sigh as she sank into the water, not hot or cold just perfect lukewarm cooling her heated skin. She scrubbed her skin to rid herself of the sweat that build there from her furs. Her handmaiden prepared her dress in the meantime. It was light blue, and flow to let in the summer breeze in as well had many openings to cool her heated skin.

Elna grinned as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair dried much faster than usual in the heat and her handmaiden braided som strands back to keep it out of her face other wise she let the straight black hair down covering the back of her dress until the top of her bottom. Elna was proud of the length of her hair and wanted to show it off, not many had hair as long as hers and definitely not as healthy thanks to the oils her father gifted her from Volantis after one of his trips.

"I feel like taking a quick walk in the gardens, I will meet you in the throne room soon" Elna turned to look at her handmaiden. the older girl nodded and waited in the room as Elna left, there was no need for her to distrust the Lady of house Stark. Elna was described as elegant and ladylike, lords and ladies would put her as en example to their own daughter, she was perfect at embroidery and sewed her house sigil on a flag at only seven name days and now it was hung proudly over their home and her father refused to take it down even ten years later. She was also skilled with a dagger thanks to her younger brother Cregan. She as well was very good with children and would help with their teachings after finishing her own studies with her Septa who never scolded her once in her life. All that made the houses of the north choose her to be sent to the King.

Elna sat down on a bench beside a rose bush. She does not usually see flowers since she loved in the north where only snow was seen for miles. During her few trips with her father she would pick a flower and hide it until it was dried before placing it in a book to keep it as a reminder of the trip and the beauty of the nature.

"What is a Lady doing here all alone with no chaperone?" Elna jumped at the sudden voice. She turned to find a middle aged man standing beside bench. She did not know who he was but she stood up respectfully either way and plastered a sweet smile on her face.

"Enjoying the gardens, my Lord" She answered. She touched the bud of the rose she was smelling earlier.

"Not something you see often?" The man asked stepping closer to her. She shook her head letting go of the flower and turned to face him.

"All I see is snow" She answered. The man chuckled shaking his head a little.

"What about you my Lord, should you not be in a meeting? i do not want to cause you trouble" Elna chewed on her bottom lip nervously. The man stared at her for a second before reaching over and pulling her lip from between her teeth making it flush red again as well as her cheeks.

"No worried, my Lady" He said. Looking between her brown eyes and the rest of her. She felt a little uncomfortable and wrapped her arms around her midsection to cover the exposed parts of her body which snapped the man back to reality.

"You do not have to fear me, my Lady" The man assured. She aloud her lips to twitch a quick smile before turning to the palace knowing she should leave soon.

"You look like you are running away from something, my Lady?" The man asked. He sat down on the bench she earlier sat on. He gestured for her to sit beside him, she was hesitant a little but did so.

"Just needed a moment before I get presented in front of the King" She answered. She shrugged her shoulders which was an unlady like act but she did not even notice herself.

"Do you not wish to meet him?" The man asked. He sounded a little worried. She looked at him confused but chose not question his reaction.

"No, it is not that. I am overwhelmed, tis all" She answered. The man smiled a little. Her eyes widened when his hand extended to her face only for it to bypass her and pluck the rose she was smelling earlier. He moved to place it behind her ear which proved to be a wise choice as the colour popped against her black locks.

"A rose for a rose" He mused. She smiled shyly and looked down at her fingers sitting elegantly on her lap. She had taught herself to stop fidgeting when nervous after her Septa told her that it was unlady like.

"Are you sure you are merely overwhelmed? You look terrified" The man touched her chin and Elna let his hand wander to her cheek before looking up at him and he let his hand drop back on his lap.

"I heard that the King was ill and needed a nurse for a wife and truly do not wish to spend my life nursing a man instead of loving and being loved by one" She answered truthfully. She did not know why she felt safe and like she could trust this stranger, she could get beheaded for her words or even for a second thinking ill of the King.

"Ah I see, well those rumours can make even the strongest maiden fear her future?" The man leaned back against the bench. Elna's eyes widened when the man did not deny the rumours.

"So they are true?" She asked leaning forward. The man shrugged his shoulders a little and much to his amusement she gulped as if she was afraid.

"If you will excuse me, my Lord, my father should be expecting me soon" She stood up curtsied a little. The man reached over and grabbed her hand making her gasp a little. He raised her softer hand and placed a kiss on knuckles. He let go of her hand and watched as she stalked back over to the Red Keep with her back straight and her head held high but each step held grace and composer.

Elna found her father and handmaiden by the door waiting for her. Her father smiled at the sight of her and his eyes held proudness at the sight of their house sigil as a necklace around her neck. He knew she wore it because she missed her wolf, there were no more direwolves in Winterfell but he insisted on gifting her a normal she-wolf who she named Willow.

"What ever happens in there you must know that I will be proud of you regardless" Her father patted her hands that clutched the inside of his arm. She smiled and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek.

"I know, father" She whispered. Lord Stark turned to the door and nodded at the guards standing there.

"Lord Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and his daughter Lady Elna Stark" The guard announced as he opened the doors. Elna smiled as the crowed parted as her father led her down the stairs. She did not dare look up at the Iron Throne, she was told that the King was an old ailing man who wanted to marry a woman who will nurse him through his last years.

Her father paused by Otto Hightower and Alicent Hightower, a brunette girl who looked younger than Elna herself. Elna felt bad for the poor girl who looked terrified and like she was praying in her head to not be chosen.

Elna finally found the courage to look up at the Iron Throne only to find it empty. She turned to her father who gave her an encouraging smile. She smiled back and straightened her back.

"King Viserys of house Targayen! the first of his name, King of Andals and the Rhoynar and the First men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the protector of the realm" A guard announced. Elna tightened her grip on her father's arms, she was truly afraid, she did not wish to marry a sick man who could barely walk. She awaited the sound of a cane but it never came and instead she heard the sound of two healthy feet creating a rhythm as they walked. She turned along with the entire court to face the king.

Her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw the stranger earlier make his way over to her and her father or more like to pass by them to the Iron Throne. He winked her way discreetly as he passed by and walked up the steps to the Iron Throne. She spoke ill of the King in the King's face without knowing and now she feared his anger.

"Lord Stark,I welcome you to my court" King Viserys' voice boomed around the throne room.

"You honoured by accepting me in your court, your grace" Rickon Stark bowed to the King. Elna gave a curtsy along with her father, eyes never leaving those of the King trying to read his expression. He did not look angry which was a relief but one cannot always be sure.

"Your daughter had grown into a beautiful young lady I see" The King spoke. His eyes on the rose she still had tugged behind her ear. Elna looked down blushing at his compliment, this gave her some sort of peace that he was not angered by her.

"She has" Rickon grinned at his young daughter. Yes she was no son and not his heir but he loved her dearly and coddled her even at her age of ten and seven. Soon after the King announced a feast to be held in their honour before ending the meeting for the day.

Elna made her way to her room still shaking from earlier. She had never expected the stranger to be the King himself. She let out a squeal of surprise when she opened her chamber door to find the King sitting on her bed awaiting her arrival.

"Your grace" Elna curtsied, not daring to raised her eyes off the ground. She was ashamed and she was even more ashamed to admit it even to herself.

"Your sickly King requires assistance, Lady Stark" King Viserys was the one to break the silence that fell over the room. Elna looked up at the King to find him pointing at the table beside the bed where a pitcher of wine sat with two cups of wine.

Elna moved over to the table silently, she did not know what to say or how to justify that she did not mean any disrespect. She picked up the pitcher and filled one of the cups halfway through before placing the pitcher back on the table, she wished she was the one drinking this wine now. She handed the King the cup with a blush as their fingers brushed against each other.

"I did not mean to disrespect-" Elna's jaw dropped when the King downed the wine in one go. He placed the cup down on the floor by the foot of the bed and turned to look at her bewildered expression.

"Did not expect an old man to drink wine so fast?" The King asked. Elna gulped and looked down at her hands.

"I did not mean to offend you, your Grace. My words were dumb and I do not know how to show you my regret" Elna whispered. She flinched a little when he stood up from the bed. He stepped closer to her until they're chest were almost touching. Elna has never been struck before and it seems this was the day she will be.

"Let me steal a kiss from your lips and you will be forgiven" Elna's head snapped up in shock at his request. He raised an eyebrow awaiting her reply.

"I do not know what to do, I have never-" Her words were cut off when his palm made contact with her cheek, so soft and cautious she almost thought it was a feather.

"No worries, I can just cut off your head instead" The King's fingers trailed down to her neck and used his pointed finger to draw a line from one side to the other. Elna's heart picked up in pace and she felt dizzy and her ears were ringing. The King moved to step away from her but both of her hands grabbed his biceps before he could and he turned to her with a smirk.

"No, please, I will do what ever you want, your grace" She whispered. The King chuckled and fixed his posture to his previous one again. He placed his hand on her cheek again and leaned his head down, not yet connecting their lips. Elna closed her eyes feeling his breath hitting her lips, she could almost taste the wine in it.

The King took a couple of seconds before making up his mind and diving into her lips. Elna's breath caught in her throat when she finally felt his lips on her own. She did not know what to do so she mimicked what ever he was doing. She felt herself growing addicted to the taste of wine on his lips. The King wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest, himself growing addicted to the taste of something sweet on her lips, probably a fruit she used to paint her lips with.

His hand trailed from her neck to her bicep and down to her elbow and raised it to wrap around his neck. Elna got the memo that she was not supposed to just stand there and wrapped her other arm around his neck letting it tangle in his gold-white hair. She forgot all about the time or the fact that her handmaiden may already be on the way to help her change her dress and accessories for the feast.

She let out a small gasp at the sound of something heavy hitting the floor and it sounded like metal. She turned to find the king's golden crown on the floor beside them. They both panted after the powerful kiss, her eyes wide on the crown and his on her.

"I am sorry I did not mean to-" The King placed his finger on her lips making her stop.

"You do not recon they will notice our absence from the feast, do you?" he questioned teasingly.

"Why would we miss it?" She asked tilting her head to the side.

"Do you not want to continue that?" Not a sinlge answer was given in that conversation. Elna's face grew hot at his suggestion making him chuckle. He grabbed her hand and raise dit up to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"I will be expecting you there" He whispered in her ear before leaving. Elna's face was still bright red when her handmaiden walked in with several dress on her arm for Elna to choose from. Elna was more than excited for the feast now.

[leopardfang15]

Hi :)

You wanted Percy x reader asks so here I am

I'm not sure if you like this but I would like Percy holding or interacting with his first (newborn) child because it's just so sweet and he would be the best dad. He would make them toys and get excited every time they learn something new. And maybe the baby having his eyes cause they are the prettiest green.

Or

Percy x reader/OC spending a nice date in the park/at the lake, maybe it ends in watching the sunset. Percy tinkered something for reader (either something useful or something nice) and in turn reader also surprises him with a thing they made themselves.

Or (I have too many ideas)

Grog accidentally breaks Percy's glasses and now he struggles with his poor eyesight so the next day reader takes him into the city to find an optometrist to get new ones made. Can either be sweet or funny or both.

I wouldn't mind you writing one or all of them, you choose :)

Authors Note: so I only did 2 but I will definitely do number three at some point. I just wasn’t quite feeling it right this moment and I really wanted to post this. Anyways, enjoy!

Ansuya was exhausted, understandably so. She’d faced down dragons, vampires, giants and so much more, and the thing that caused her more pain than anything else was a mere seven pounds, five ounces and twenty inches long. Like many a foe, he had been screaming and covered in blood. However, that was an hour ago.

Now, Percy’s son was resting peacefully in his arms. He’d been cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket that Ansuya had made. It was dark blue like his favored coat and had the De Rolo crest stitched on in shiny, gold color thread. The creator of both the blanket and child had followed her son’s example and gone to sleep. Percy took a moment to marvel at the woman who’d given him such a precious gift. Her dark skin had been cleaned of the sweat that had drenched her body and she’d been changed into a clean robe. Her bedding had also been switched out and her black hair had once again been tied back. She’d been so exhausted Percy doubted she’d wake up before dawn as had been her ritual since long before he’d known her. He had no plans to wake her. She’d earned her rest for fighting so hard to bring their son into the world.

A slight movement from the bundle in his arms brought Percy’s gaze down. Their son had a mixture of his parent’s complexion, far darker than Percy but still lighter than his mother. He had some wisps of dark brown hair on his head, an adorable nose and ten little fingers and toes. Percy kept counting them. Logically he knew the number of fingers and toes wouldn’t change, but that didn’t stop the tinkerer from doing it over and over again.

Percy created a lot of things; fire arms, traps and other weapons. More recently he found himself crafting children’s toys, a music box, a cradle and a small mobile with little dragons. He found those to be quite fulfilling but this little person in his arms, cradled to his chest?

This small boy was his proudest and most beloved creation.

——————————————————————————————-

(AN: time for story 2)

The light gleamed off the lake and made it sparkle in the midday sun. Percy and Ansuya managed to find a shaded spot to lay out their blanket. Percy offered to sit closer to the water since he knew it reminded her of home but she teased that she didn’t want him in the sun too much.

“We don’t need you looking like a boiled lobster because your delicate skin couldn’t handle the rays.” She said, caressing his cheek. Percy rolled his eyes but the small smile betrayed his amusement and that her concern for him was appreciated.

Now they sat, back against the tree with the remnants of their lunch neatly packed away in their basket. Ansuya was resting her head on Percy’s shoulder while he ran his fingers through her hair. She’d let it out of its customary braid so that Percy could stroke the curled strands. Ansuya took a deep breath and nuzzled further into Percy’s shoulder.

“Keep doing that and I might think you’re trying to burrow under my skin.” Percy said, his chuckled slightly jostling her.

The dark skinned woman smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “There’s a thought. I’m just glad we did this, it’s nice to get away.”

“Yes,” Percy said, pressing a kiss to her head. “I enjoy spending time with you that isn’t interrupted every five minutes.” He said, grumbling at the memory of Scanlan walking in only to start teasing him while he was spending time with Ansuya. The bard hadn’t walked in on anything particularly interesting but the didn’t stop Scanlan from relentlessly teasing him.

Ansuya chuckled. “It also helps you. You’re so much more relaxed.” She said, sitting up so she could rub his shoulder. She could feel a lot less stress in him. She couldn’t hide her smile at how he nearly melted at her touch.

“Yes well, you do have that effect on me.” He said, looking at her with warm, green eyes, lighter than her own. A faint blush then dusted his cheeks as he reached into his coat pocket. “I-I made something for you.”

Ansuya shifted away from him so he’d have space to show her and ended up sitting with her legs crossed opposite him. Percy pulled out a metal rod with some leather wrapped around the middle, seeming to be a hand grip. At first the monk was confused but then Percy pressed a small button and then the rod extended and revealed a sharp blade at one end.

“It’s a spear.” Percy said before seeming to mentally cringe at his own statement. “Obviously, but this will be easier to carry and much easier to conceal. I can make you a holster, similar to my own.”

Ansuya carefully took the weapon from Percy’s hand and looked it over. It was simple, no extra details or design. She tested the weight and balance while she continued to listen to Percy.

“To be honest it’s just a prototype. I’d need you to test it along side the original and it is still untested in combat. I simply require your input to refine it so I can make the necessary adjustments.”

Ansuya stopped listening as he started going over who she could possibly spar against to give it a try. She could only picture in her mind’s eye Percy, working down in his workshop for days or even weeks. The long hours he no doubt spent drawing up plans and testing the release and retracting of the device, let alone a blade that could slide back into the pole itself. Not to mention how long he spent learning how to forge a simple spear, let alone something this unique. He’d spent all that time, sweating in his forge, to make something for her? Her heart felt fit to burst with love for this man who was still babbling.

“Perhaps we could ask-“ Percy was stopped mid sentence when Ansuya pulled him in for a kiss. He was shocked but melted into the kiss easily enough. Ansuya broke the kiss but rested her forehead against his, smile so warm it rivaled the sun.

“Thank you, Percy. No one’s ever done something like this for me, spent so much time with me in mind.” She blinked away her tears, not wanting to fall apart on him. “I wish I could- oh!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of cloth. She smiled at him, a bit shy.

“I know lots of nobles have these and you probably have a bunch but, with how busy we’ve been I didn’t think you had one like this.” She placed her gift in his hand.

Carefully unfolding it, Percy gasped. It was a simple, white, silk handkerchief. What was extraordinary about it, to him, was the de Rolo crest embroidered in the corner. He ran his thumb over the stitching, taking in the image created by shimmering, gold thread. He looked back up at her with her shy smile. She was so beautiful.

“Thank you, my dear.” Percy said, folding her gift with swift fingers. “I’ll always treasure it.

[bunbunbunni]

Ok I am gonna *cracks knucles* Warframe Ramble about the latest update Jade Shadows, so spoilers!!!!!

(not critiquing it, just what my oc blorbos are reacting/what they did through it)

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(Also I need to make an important note, my oc Astrophel is Nonbinary Transmasc and uses he/they, his gender expression and relationship to it is a direct copy of my own�� please be respectful to experiences that differ from your own as some Transmascs/Transmen want to have children— this is not a commentary on it or a fetish just making my oc feel real and complex lol

Content Warning: Pregnancy mention)

As a little catch up in my oc universe after New War Astrophel is left extremely depressed and fatigued, switching sides to have Orokin Royal Privilege wasn’t so fun was it Astro? He’s going through a lot I shouldn’t say that. Astrophel is so depressed and fatigued still, they do not go with Namid to investigate the Zariman/don’t know if Namid has told Astrophel about it yet. By WitW Astrophel is feeling good enough to go on missions again and reluctantly helped out our favourite Loid, Astro hates Deimos but as long as he’s not outside on the fleshy planet they feel less icked out.

Now to Jade Shadows.

Namid and Astrophel find themselves finally having a slow day and Namid is trying to broach some hard conversations about some realizations they have come to, realizations they had back in New War while Astrophel was under Ballas’ control… those realizations being Feelings. Wow, T4T real?

Namid is stuttering and fumbling trying to get the words to form correctly, flustered and fiddling with their hair braid as they struggle to string a sentence together. Just as Namid’s lips start to remember how to speak— The Stalker shows up, and he’s got problems.

Namid’s eye is TWITCHING and they are mildly going insane that they have to put this conversation off for the 500th time since they got Astrophel back.

Astrophel on the other hand feels an Immediate connection to Jade’s feather. He hasn’t really felt anything since New War. Astrophel offers to find Jade/ connect with her through transference.

Being connected to Jade during the Big Moment awakens something in Astro, a fighting spark, a burning in his stomach to keep fighting. Jade and Stalker’s story and how it mimics his own relationships to Namid and Orion. The power imbalance. For a moment Astrophel knows exactly how it would play out if he were still an Orokin Prince, mid trance he looks over at Namid and sees them distorted, they would not have been able to be together either. His overbearing mothering and coddling, did Astrophel want children? Could he even have them now after how void touched the incident left all the Tenno? It didn’t matter, Astrophel comes out of the transference trance with depression brain fog gone, replaced with a fiery passion, he could not save the Jade he was connected to but he can create the next.

Namid banging their head against a wall cause this ends with them still not talking about their feelings lol.

Also not sure what the Stalker-Jade baby is named in this story 2 Orions existing would be hilarious 🤣

[mysticstarlightduck]

Get to Know My OC Tag Game:

Thank you for tagging me @rickie-the-storyteller!

(Disclaimer: I may have to adapt some of the original questions to fit the context, as the story takes place in a medieval-esque fantasy setting, and will add some questions that I’d like my character to answer that may explain some other things about them. Also, I wasn’t comfortable enough - for some unexplained reason - to use 1st person words for the Interviewer - such as me or I - and so the Interviewer is in a generic 2nd person POV)

[The following character (and the ones that will follow in other posts like this) belongs to my Medieval Dark Fantasy WIP, The Last Wrath. The picture is just a face claim found on pinterest, as I haven’t had time to make character art for the entire cast of my book, and said picture belongs to its respectful owners.]

Let us begin!

A door opens, and 16, soon to be 17, year old Raelen Ashiren strides in. She bears a reckless smile on her face, and her steps are carefree and confident as she walks closer, grasping your hand in a firm hand shake. Her smile is a litle crooked, you notice, and just as wild as her heart. She is an unusual kid of pretty, messy long brown hair carelessly pushed away from her face in thin braids, and warm skin that bears a few small scars. Her clothes are loose and simple, designed for practicality while retaining that unmistakable burst of personality that permeates everything about her presence, a starry purple scarf giving her attire a dash of color. You can’t help but notice that while her clothes are simple and clearly worn by her frequent adventuring, they are not in a bad shape either. 

Her voice is fast and joyfully loud, but her words carry a strong sense of warmth and honesty. You can see clearly in her bright eyes every emotions that she is feeling, and like an open book they tell you a story of someone who is brave and wild, but at the same time full of joy... with a touch of something else you can’t quite place. She takes a seat in front of you, awaiting eagerly for the questions you may be inclined to ask.

1) Are you named after anyone?

Raelen: Yes, I am. Heh, I um, was named after my paternal grandmother, though her name was a bit different from mine. She was called Raellyn, and my parents adapted the name to Raelen for me, I guess it was so as to avoid confusion between the names... She was a great warrior, and the pride of House Eiriant during the years she lived - I think my Da wanted her legacy to live on somehow after I was born, even if just in her name, so ... here I am, Raelen. (Cue a laugh and little jazz hands as she finishes her answer)

2) When was the last time you cried? 

Raelen: Well, isn’t that a loaded question, (she chuckles awkwardly, bringing her hand up to fiddle with her necklace), one that I’d rather not answer...(she quietly adds, before begrudgingly sighing)... But I guess, if you really want to know, it was when my older brother Julyan was captured by a bunch of assassins... and I couldn’t do anything about it.  I’m still looking for him, and I don’t know if we’ll find him anytime soon. (her lip wobbles a bit as she looks up towards you) Can we move on to another um... topic now? 

Interviewer (you): Oh, my... um, I wasn’t expecting that, I’m so sorry... (you/the interviewer plaster their best smile on their face, trying to smooth things over) Of course, let’s move on!

Raelen: (her breathing sags a bit in relief and she smiles back at you) Thanks.

3) Do you have kids?

Raelen: What the hell? (She mutters awkardly in a laugh) Of course not, like, I’m barely not a child myself, and I don’t think I want another person to worry about in a world like mine, at least not in the foreseeable future and until I am an adult and have everything figured out. Even if I was not living on the run or there wasn’t a war between the realms about to happen, that would probably still be my answer. (She runs a hand through her hair, chuckling a bit and leaning forwards towards you, as if sharing a secret). With an adoptive brother like Azra flying around on a dragon, I’ve got my work cut out for me right now... (Suddenly she becomes pensive) I can’t imagine how Julyan handled it, like, caring for me and Azra when he was just a kid himself after our parents... you know. I don’t think I would have been able to do that so well even now... (After a pause she taps her hands on her knees, smiling once again.) Either way, circling back to your question, no, I don’t have kids nor plan to have them any time soon.

4) Do you use sarcasm?

Raelen: (smiling with a hint of laughter) Only every day! I’m trying to cut down a bit on it, that seems like a habit that is cut out to get me into more trouble than I already am, heh. But with the company I keep, I’m surprised I’m not more sarcastic or swearing like a sailor, because let me tell you, my friends can be either brilliant or the stupidest people I have ever met and there’s no in between. There are days where they are really testing my patience and I love them for it. (She laughs) I guess sarcasm runs in the family, but I try my best to be um ... politer.

5) What's the first thing you notice about people?

Raelen: Um, I guess I’m kind of good at telling when people are lying to me or have ill intentions. Everyone has a tell, though some may be harder to understand than others. I think it rather comes as a necessity when you live in Agrannor, but I’ve met some people that can prove that thought otherwise in a second (She pointedly stares at Vallerius). Also, personality wise, I am also quick to notice the little quirks and expressions, the small characterictics that tell us what they are really feeling even if their words won’t. But all of this only applies to when I am in a good or focused mood, because if I’m scared or angry the deal is totally off and I may or may not be really bad at those things I just said under those circumtances, heh.

6) What's your eye colour?

Raelen: Hazel green. At least, I think that’s what I think it is. Oh, and they only change color a small bit when I use my magic, which is something I don’t know what to make of. I’m still practicing, Vall’s teaching me more about magic, so I hope I can get those cool colorful eyes in the future, (she geeks out a bit) though I guess mine are already pretty sweet. 

7) Any special talents?

Raelen: I’m Mageborn, which means that I was born with magic in my blood, unlike a regular human. So I can cast spells and change things in the world around me with them. My family is pretty ancient, especially my Mom’s side of the family - House Ashiren, hence the surname - and we’ve been mages since before the Ancient War. (She twirls her necklace in her hands, thinking, and a small smile appears in her face) When I was a kid - after our parents disappeared and it was just me and Julyan - we didn’t have much other than our own company, so Julyan used to tell me all those tales about our ancestors, to make me feel better - powerful warriors and mages fighting to rid the kingdoms of the scourge of the Secret Court (Raelen raises her arms a bit, enthusiastically, like one would telling a heroic tale) - and I used to dream of becoming a hero, like they had been... So, as far as special talents can go, I think I have them - I can do magic, I am a mage after all, though I wish I could be better at it. I’ve been improving a lot recently, ever since Valleriusand I started practicing together!  Though I think I may never be as strong in the magical arts as Julyan is - I’ve always been more like my Da after all, Julyan’s far more like our Mom than he’d admit, and that includes being extremely talented with fire magic. Other than the magical side of my um, “talents”, I’m a ... good  swordfighter, I guess, and I’m kinda good with daggers. I can defend myself pretty well, but that’s about it. (She laughs heartedly) I can’t shoot an arrow to save my life though. Other than that, my real  passions lie on investigating forgotten things about old magic and adventuring! Does that count as a talent? I think it doesn’t, but does it count?

Interviewer (you): Uh... I don’t know, maybe?

Raelen: (smiling) Great! Because I’m a pretty good adventurer then, heh, though most people around me prefer to call me a troublemaker for some reason... (she says, a sarcastic lilt to her voice) I guess it does have a good ring to it, though adventurer sounds far more... heroic. I’m still workshopping that one, but adventurer sounds much cooler than troublemaker. 

8) Scary tales or happy endings?

Raelen: Uh, life in the continent is already one scary tale and a half on my opinion, I mean, you have wars in one hand, intrigue in another, a bunch of crazy corrupted sorcerers wanting to rewrite the word in blood and everything that twisted magic entails, such as the Shroud around the forests back home. So, if I have to choose which story I want to tell or hear around the fire, I definitely  would go with one that ends at least remotely happy. The heroic ones are my favorites, if you can’t already tell. I think that hope is a important skill to have in any situation, especially in dangerous ones, so a story that is inspiring to some extent or at the very least tells us something interesting, is definitely better than a terrifying one. But I maybe got a bit too caried away here (she chuckles)....

9) Where were you born?

Raelen: I was born in my family’s ancient estate near the Forests of Midtaren, during the Agrannorian Civil War. A while later, when I was around like maybe four or five, our parents went in a strange mission and never returned. Julyan and I had to move to the Kingdom of Kestrall  all by ourselves, where our godmother is High General and had made a promise to our father that she would protect us if the worst came to pass. The journey to get there however.. um, is something I’d rather forget and never talk about again...

10) What are your hobbies?

Raelen: Running in the forests around Kestrall, sparring, sneaking into the Dragon’s Spire with Gareth - he’s my best friend by the way (she smiles)- and seeing all the new dragons that the Riders are training, talking, annoying the guards, watching Julyan make runic weapons, stealing old books from the Royal Archives -

Interviewer (you): Woah, woah... Wait a second, that’s already a whole lot but... stealing?

Raelen: (Laughs sheepishly) Um, kinda...? Look, its not really stealing, its complicated... the Archives are open to the public, but I got banned from ever entering those halls again because I spoke against that shithead of the Captain of the Guard (She says the title mockingly), after he, um... hurt my brother (She looks clearly uncomfortable/scared at the memory, before she clasps her hands together). Anyways... so there’s that, and now I kind of had to sneak away the books and tomes that I want, though I can’t do it anymore because I’m currently living on the run across the continent. (She chuckles and lifts her eyebrows sarcastically). Listen, if it makes you feel better, Julyan and Azra told me not to sneak into the Archives... at least for the first 10 times. 

Interviewer (you): (clearly concerned, muttering to yourself) That’s so much worse though... (The Interviewer/You clear your throat)... Anyways, let us move forward...

11) Do you have any pets?

Raelen: I wouldn’t call Mystral that heh... She’s this dragon that we’ve got that like, is following us around ever since we uh - snuck her away from the Dragon Spire to escape a bunch of assassins and Azra crash landed us gloriously in the forest. (She giggles, then catches Azra staring daggers at her and answers by making a face at him). Gods, we’d better hope she didn’t hear us calling her a pet... because according to Vallerius’ translations of what she is thinking, she’s uh... (she then begins talking with a mock majestic voice) “The Tamer of Storms and the Scourge of the Earth, cower before me ye mortals” or something along those lines. (Raelen leans closer, whispering to you with a smirk)...But she does look and act like a cat, so I can’t really take her seriously and neither should you. She insists that she needs mittens for the winter, even though she generates enough heat to light up ten forges and has claws the size of a broadsword, and claims that its a disgrace that were not taking such “an important request” seriously in the middle of a war - though now that I think of it, that might just be Vallerius screwing us over with his shitty half-assed translations of Old Dragon Speech. (She narrows her eyes towards the long haired boy across the room, who pointed avoids her gaze).

12) What sports do you play/have played?

Raelen: Look, this isn’t really a sport, but I’ve sparred against some of the older Dragon Knights in a swordfigthing tourney of winter’s solstice Festival a few years ago, and did a pretty great job at it, I think. That is, before a stray spear knocked me on the helmet and left me unconscious for like, two hours. Teiva - that’s the General, our godmother - thought it was funny and seemed impressed, while Julyan nearly had a heart attack and the lecture that followed made me wish I was still asleep. But the food at the festival was good! So there’s that.

13) How tall are you?

Raelen: I don’t know exactly, but average height, maybe? Sometimes I think I am a bit taller than other kids my age, but that may be because Azra and Gareth are little ankle-biters, (she turns around as Azra prostests in the background, a smirk on her face as she sarcastically calls out). I think you’re proving my point, huh?

Interviewer (you): (The Interviewer/You smile as they start to bicker and nudge Raelen on the shoulder to catch her attention) This was one heck of a wild ride, Raelen! I hope you figure things out in your life again, and that you’ll find your brother soon. Thank you for coming to my interview!  

Raelen: This was a really fun experience! Thanks for having me, I really got to go though. Have like, an Empire to topple, a brother to save, a rebellion to help.. uh, anyways, a lot of things that I don’t want to burden you with... Bye! 

@lassiesandiego​ @writernopal​ @lyutenw​

[galactic-senator-amidala]

hello! mun speaking :D

"i am not afraid to use unorthodox means to prove my point"

before we get started, there’s some things that are going to be pointed out here (plz read they are very important):

if you’d like to ask padme or the mun anything, use my ask box! it is open for those specific reasons! just make sure to clarify if you are asking padme or mun

if youd like to rp but dont know if ill say yes, just dm me! they are open for those reasons lol

im pretty much cool with everything as long as it doesnt involve any nsfw stuff (gore & stuff is fine, im referring to smut)

my time schedule is wack so there will be days where i am radio silent. please dont think i am ignoring you, im probs just so busy i dropped dead (id recommend priv msging me to be safe)

my main blog is @flowered-bicycles so if youd like to see how i am like out of rp, go there lol

mun goes by soka but will usually be referred to as “amidala’s (or padme’s) mun. mun also uses she/her

as hard as i will try to be like padme’s canon self, i might end up throwing a bit of myself in the rp as well. if something seems ooc, please let me know but dont be harsh about it

parentheses or // are used when mun is speaking

roleplay is either used in 3rd person or 1st person. if you have a preference you’d like me to use, dont be shy and let me know

extra and disclaimer! - this is strictly an rp blog (yes i may act and speak and react like padme, but i am no way actually her. i am in no way affiliated with star wars! (unless you count being a fan as affiliated) so this is completely fanmade! feel free (much encouraged) to like, reblog, or send/asks and make comments! the ask box has anon on as well, so if you are too shy to use your user, anon is on just for you! if you wish, giving an emoji for me to recognize you by would be greatly appreciated! you can leave comments and ill try to reply to them. i dont think my submissions are open, but if youd like to submit something then ill open them!

BLOG RULES

you may use “potty mouth” when rping in character, but please keep it pretty strictly to star wars cursing (kriff, kark, etc)

padme is straight and will be canonically shipped with anakin (cuz they are married, duhh) but if you wish to do a “non-canonical”/au where padme is shipped with your character (or is not straight), please dm me and we will work it out

keep this a SFW blog! (which means no smut!! violence / gore are accepted tho so be warned)

keep the asks respectful please

uncomfortable topics will be blatantly ignored

dont godmod.

have fun!

about padme

galactic senator

canonically married to anakin skywalker

unofficially became ahsoka’s aunt

isn't afraid to use aggressive negotiations

will sweet talk you to get what she wants

friends & foes

canon

anakin skywalker - open slot

ahsoka tano - open slot

satine kryze - @arandomnerdsrp358

obi-wan kenobi - open slot

oc

(name of character) - user

PROMPT LIST! (and quotes)

here is a list of prompts that will help structure an rp (if you want to make a structured rp) or help get the rp flowing/started:

extra!: prompts and quotes can be requested together! for ex. : “can i request prompt a. with quote 6?” (or vice versa)

quotes:

1. “why did you do it? tell me”

2. “you know im always here for you, right?”

3. “let me take care of you”

4. “i thought id never see you again…”

5. “we need to get you to a hospital!”

6. “blood? why are you bleeding!?”

7. “sleep at my place tonight”

8. “you know you are my one and only”

9. “im in love with you, idiot (or di’kut)

10. “sh, stop fussing. let me braid your hair”

11. “if you steal the blankets, im going to put my cold feet on you.”

prompts:

a. it’s a mission and we got separated from the group. we are on an unknown planet and dont have any signal to comm the rest of the group. we have to try to make our way back to the ship with only each other and the things we have with us.

b. no one knows when it started, but suddenly people have started receiving red ribbons tied to their pinky and the red trails off to their soulmate. not everyone has a soulmate but we are some of the lucky few who have one. follow the roleplay as we go on a journey to follow the trail and meet eachother, and then live life together as soulmates.

c. a diplomatic mission gone wrong when a terrible virus breaks out in the planet. with the ship pulled to pieces and we are stranded on the planet, how will we survive and rebuild the ship to get off world and warn the other planets?

d. it’s a diplomatic mission to bring a planet to the side of the republic, but something goes wrong. dooku has brought his army to stop the planet from joining the republic and we get caught in the crossfire! negotiations are made and dooku has proposed a challenge for us to complete. if successfully completed, the planet may host a republic base. if lost, the planet goes to the separatists.

!! accepting additional quotes / prompts !!

[rococospade]

Hello! I have a question regarding the design of your Tarnished character, Letho, and his friend Ambrosia from your fic.

Have you used pre existing armor sets/armor pieces that you find in game for their design, or did you give them different clothes that you yourself made? Just curious, cause it seems like there's a lot of people making new armors for their Tarnished ocs to fit a certain character or aesthetic, just as there's a lot of people using pre existing sets in their drawings of them.

Have a good day!

Hi! Uh, honestly for me it's a little of both.

I'll break the answer into two parts, the fic answer and the art answer.

So, fic wise, Letho is usually in the Confessor Set by default, and either has the base Confessor weapons (Lemosyne) or the Bloodhound Fang and more throwables than god (Mare's Nest.)

Ambrosia's costume I've been vague about because I haven't actually sat down and concretely decided what they're wearing, though in chapter 10 it's probably something like the page set and a hood armour for plot-reasons.

On the art side of things:

So, I've drawn Letho in the Confessor outfit of course, but the costume he's wearing in my pinned post is based on a mix of one of the mage sets (Alberich's) and the Confessor set, plus Rennala's gauntlets because I really like them (and a wrap that he got as a gift, not based on a game item). I've drawn him in the deathbed companion dress a few times, and I've commissioned art of him in a combination of Maliketh's armour + the Depraved Perfumer robes, too. There's also an armour I did based on a design class I'm taking, but I haven't uploaded that yet.

Ambrosia's costume in my head is like a patchwork forest-coloured hedgewitch looking set, I really need to make them an Elden file just so I can look for costume ideas though! I'd love to have them with a game armour look. (Maybe the page set and one of the hood items? Hmm.)

When I do design original armour I try to use game sets as a jump off point, but I'm not good at folding in a convincing amount of detail yet.

Combo of Confessor, Alberich, and Rennala's sets + a shawl

Based on the same as above but with different colours. Hairstyle changed because the idea of him wearing a crystal dart as a hairpin appealed to me -- originally he had the default braided hair, which, beloved <3

aaaand the armour set that's still in development, and not based on anything in the game:

This will show up in fic and art at some point. I didn't plan for it to be gold, but it kind of works conceptually and colours-wise, so why not.

aaand I went digging for the art I had of Ambrosia:

These sketches are from a few months ago. Their costume's really too similar to Letho's, here. I'll need to do something else. But it's hard to picture them in long skirts, so even if I do that, I'll probably draw the skirt as girded.

And this is a pen sketch I did in like 2 minutes to try and figure out what they're wearing in chapter 10. "Oooh I'm just a helpless old person, stop looking at me, I definitely won't hit you with this stick" vibes

Thanks for the ask!

[thyshadowwriter]

Lost & Found. Chapter 2.

Ivar Ragnarsson x oc.

Summary: being rescued by Helga in one of the raids and reluctantly tolerated by Floki, a young girl finds herself amidst a strange place with strange people, but if adapting to the cultural shock wasn't hard enough, catching the attention of the volatile and beloved son of the Queen would soon prove to be the ultimate proving. That if she realizes just how much being around prince Ivar is walking on thin ice.

Author's note: I took some liberties with the timeline.

Tagging: @youbloodymadgenius

An awkward introduction takes place as Ivar visits Floki unannounced.

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The girl, now Revna, made no opposition to her new name, which in a small amount, made Floki proud in himself, and although Helga wasn't very thrilled, she let Floki have that one. Maybe, with time and understanding, Revna would open up more about herself, or so she hoped.

She was curious about her surroundings, looking around and apparently trying to memorize all of it. But as she tried to move one of the heavy pots, the pain made her gasp and clutch to her side.

Helga rushed to her and guided her to sit on a chair, trying to soothe her.

"You have to be careful, you need to heal."

Revna nodded. Floki took their belongings inside and closed the door. He walked to them and crouched to Revna's level. He showed the palm of his hands to her and pointed to where her wound was, he needed to see if she hurt herself more. Once she regained her breath she looked from his hands to his face and nodded for him.

He uncovered her wound and examined it carefully. It would leave a mark, but it at least it didn't get worse.

"You should be more careful, Revna. It is healing well, the gods favored you." Floki said to her as he covered the wound again.

Looking to Revna's and Helga's dark eyes an idea crossed his mind. Floki quickly raised and began searching the house.

"Floki, what is it?"

"She needs to learn or language, Helga. She cannot live here and not understand us."

"What are you doing Floki?"

He didn't answer her and continued searching until he found a box that caught his attention.

"Here. I knew I had kept it somewhere."

He walked back to them and handed Revna the box.

She looked to the box and frowned then looked to Floki and raised both eyebrows.

"Go on. Open it." Said Floki, urging her to it.

She opened it and inside were a bunch of symbols carved and painted in wood. She picked one to examine it closely, as if by looking they could mean something.

"You can start teaching her with those." Floki said to Helga.

Helga smiled back to her husband, a silent thank you for his help.

Revna took them out of the box and put them on her lap, leaving the box to her side, now completely taken by curiosity, going attentively from one to the next. Helga took some of the runes from her lap, thinking of the lessons she would teach her. It would be just like teaching a newborn their first word, that she knew how to do.

Floki was happy with himself, if he could help Helga in her mad endeavor, he would, gods know she put up with his. As long as the girl learned to respect and acknowledge their gods and their way of life, he could tolerate her. He could try, for Helga.

Floki went to his table and began sorting his tools for his next work, while Helga began teaching Revna the runes and their voices filled the house while he started his work.

A few hours passed like this when the sound of the door being open broke the spell. It was Ivar, who came to visit them, as he would do occasionally.

The gods were testing him, there could be no other way.

Usually, Floki wouldn't mind Ivar's visits, a part of him missed when he was a kid, his home wasn't as empty with Ivar around, but right now, he would rather Ivar didn't show up so soon. He would prefer the girl had more time to get used to them before the inevitable introductions had to be made.

But life was never easy, he could only pray to the gods and hope for the best.

Ivar dragged himself inside and closed the door behind him.

"Hello, Floki. Helga."

"Ivar." Floki said.

"Hello, Ivar." Helga greeted him back.

Helga's hand left the runes she held to the side and she began playing with the girl long locks, while Revna's attention left the runes and went to young man dragging himself on the ground. Floki looked to the girl trying to gauge her thoughts, but her face was unreadable to him.

He could only hope it would be the same to Ivar. He knew very well how Ivar reacted to people who looked to him wrong.

Of course Ivar's attention went straight to Revna. He looked her up and down before asking.

"So... Who is this?"

"We named her Revna." Answered Helga proudly.

"And you brought her back? She'll make a good slave, I'm sure." There was malice in his voice, something that Revna seemed to grasp even if she couldn't understand his words. Her face fell a bit and she pursed her lips together, looking at Ivar with full distrust.

But before either of them would do or say anything else, Helga was quick to correct Ivar.

"She's not a slave. We are adopting her. She's my child."

Ivar looked to Floki with the most shocked expression that ever painted his face, his eyes wide open and his lips parted, like for once in his life he was without words and without a guess of what to do. Were it any other situation, Floki would have laughed, that was a look he never imagined on Ivar, but he too was just as lost, so he just looked to the window as if he could remove himself from the room.

Ivar looked to Helga, who was either oblivious or downright ignoring their confusion and instead was attentively combing and braiding the girl's long dark locks.

"Ah... Well, let's see." Ivar said, the he pushed himself closer to the girl.

He reached his hand to touch her face. He wanted to have a better look at her, in part out of curiosity and in a greater part to assure himself that she was in fact there to be adopted and not some of Floki's scheming.

Or maybe Either Floki or Helga had finally lost their minds, could very much be.

But Revna didn't take his gesture very well and got startled, trying to get far from Ivar but finding herself trapped between his hand and the back of the chair.

Helga held her down by the shoulders and tried to defuse the situation before she injured herself further and Ivar became angry at her.

"Shh, it's alright. Don't be afraid." Helga said to her repeatedly.

"I won't hurt you." Ivar tried to reassure.

But Revna argued something to Helga that neither of them could understand, but if her face and tone were any clue, she didn't sound very pleased.

Ivar cocked his head to the side narrowing his eyes at Revna.

"It's alright, my child. He won't hurt you. It's alright. You don't have to be afraid." Helga tried to calm her down.

Revna said something else but Helga repeated herself, gently patting the girl's head.

"I won't hurt you, alright? I just want to see you." Ivar said to her.

She looked at Ivar then back to Helga who nodded to her with a smile. Revna pursed her lips together again, inhaled deeply until her lungs were full of air and sighed audibly, resting her hands on her lap and turned her attention back to Ivar, nodding to him and allowing him to touch her face, though her eyes started at him like she would throw him in a pyre if she could.

Ivar was pleased to have his way and gave Revna a lopsided smile. He couldn't possibly take seriously the young girl's annoyance and instead was nothing short of amused by the indignant look she gave him.

So Ivar touched her face, trying his best to not make sudden movements and startle her again. She didn't flinch from his touch, but he could feel her muscles tense under his fingertips. He took his time to feel her cheek, the shape of her jaw and her forehead. Her skin was soft and her features delicate, still a tad round but he guessed that would change once she got older.

He could feel her dark eyes looking at his every movement, possibly trying to gauge whether ot not he would hurt her, if he had to guess. Her cheeks became red as he continued to touch her face and her gaze held a curiosity under the poorly hidden grievance.

Ivar then touched her hair, the girl had a dense hair that looked somewhat wild with its dark and shiny waves and curls. Her hair felt soft on his fingers, he took the lock closer to her face and curled it around his finger, then released it.

"See? It wasn't so bad. I said I wouldn't hurt you." Ivar said as he looked back to Revna.

Helga and Floki heaved a sigh of relief. Helga touched Revna's hair again and continued to braid it.

Revna parted her lips as if she wanted to say something to him, but the reminder she couldn't hit her and she rolled her eyes annoyed and sighed, tapping her foot against the floor.

Ivar chuckled at that. He then looked to her lap and saw what he remembered to be the runes Floki used to teach him years ago. He reached out to pick one of them but before he could notice, his hand was slapped away soundly by Revna.

Floki, Helga and Ivar all froze at their positions, looking wide eyed and with parted lips at Revna. Ivar's hand still in the air, Helga's hands on Revna's hair.

Ivar locked his stare on Revna, his clear blue eyes wide open looking at her in complete disbelief.

They stood like that until Floki broke the silence with a laughter that all the surroundings must have heard. He hit the table with a fist and leaned forward trying to catch his breath, his pale face becoming red and his eyes watering a bit.

Ivar moved a bit away from Revna and turned to look at Floki, who was trying to catch his breath, Helga took the runes from Revna's lap and put them away, guiding the girl away from the room.

Once they left, Ivar had his attention all on Floki.

"What are you laughing of, you old fool?"

"Someone finally gave you a lesson. Who would have guessed it would be a child?"

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa 2

Ok... part 2. Here it is. Remember to be gentle. 

Please do not translate, repost, or steal any of my work. My mind is deranged enough without anyone else’s help. Thanks again to @drabbles-mc for letting me bounce ideas off you and helping with plot points.

Taza x Daughter!OC

Warnings: none (Let me know if I missed anything)

Megan meets the rest of the family....

Taza re-entered the conference room smiling and made his way over to sit next to Megan. “So, what’s your plan now that you’ve found me? I know what I would prefer, but I also don’t want to jump to conclusions.”

Megan sighed and pulled her long braid over her shoulder with a rueful smile. “Honestly... I’m not sure. I don’t honestly think that I got this far by planning anything.” She busied her nervous fingers by fidgeting with the end of her braid. “What would you like me to do? I understand that you may not want me around. I can disappear if that’s what your need. I honestly don’t know why I thought you’d want to know about me...”

Taza stopped her nervous rambling by covering both of her hands with one of his. “Megan, honey, breathe.” He waited for her to take another visible deep breath. “I’m glad that you’re here. I’m glad that you found me. I want to get to know my daughter.”

She smiled shyly up at him and blinked rapidly to clear her lashes of tears.

“Now. I have a ranch outside of Santo Padre. I’d really like it if you came home with me. It’s a bachelor pad, but we can make changes... we’ll do whatever you need.”

“Really? You... you want me around?”

“Yes, Chica. I want you around. My brothers too. You have a ton of men currently waiting to meet you down in the casino restaurant. We’ll get some food and then we can go get your stuff from where ever you’re staying and head out.”

She smiled brilliantly at him when he answered her, but her face fell when he mentioned getting her things. She cleared her throat, “There’s nothing to get.” She held up her battered backpack. “I’ve got everything here. And... um... I don’t have gas money or anything to contribute to the trip back. I used the last of it to get here this morning.”

Taza frowned at the small pack. It obviously didn’t hold much. Maybe a change of clothes or two, but not much else. Certainly not enough to get her across country like she had been. “Don’t worry about the money, Chica. It’s covered. We’ll have to stop and get you a helmet and jacket too. You can’t ride like that.”

She shook her head. “I can’t let you do that. That’s a lot of money to be spending it on me.”

“Mija- you’ll have to have a helmet. It’s the law and club rules. And you need a jacket to protect you too. I’m good, but everyone lays down sometimes and things happen on the road. I promise you this- it's not negotiable.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “Let’s go get some food. You’ll feel better.”

Taza stood and offered to carry her backpack, again noticing the lack of weight to it. Then he led her out of the room to meet his brothers. Her new family.

At the door to the restaurant, he paused and turned to face her head on. He nudged her chin up to make her look him in the face. “Listen, Chica, the men you are about to meet have been my family for a long time. They’re going to be your family too in time. They look rough, but don’t let them scare you. Any one of them would do anything to protect family and that includes you now.”

She smiled shyly and nodded. “I can hold my own, I think. I’m used to some pretty rough guys.”

“Thatta girl.” He checked his phone to find a text from Bishop to let him know that they’d commandeered the smallest dining room for an impromptu family dinner. “Let’s go eat.”

He led the way keeping a careful eye on his daughter. His mind buzzing. He had so many things that he wanted to know about her. He worried about how she would mesh with his brothers. She’d seemed so nervous and shy. He didn’t want the more intimidating ones to frighten here. He’d have to speak with them at Templo and ask them to be gentle as she adjusted to life with the club. He’d also warn the young bucks to keep their hands to themselves.  

He opened the door and laughed as all heads whipped around to see them and silence fell. He guided Megan inside and shut the door putting her backpack down with their gear. Bishop must have filled the club in on what was going on. They were way too curious about this new face.  

Bishop stood up smiling. “All sorted?” At Megan’s nervous nod he motioned to Taza to bring her around to a seat at the table next to him. There was an empty seat on the other side of her apparent chair for Taza.  

Taza guided her quickly to sit. He stood behind her chair for a moment and squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. “So... this is Megan. She’s my daughter. Don’t you all swarm her at once. Give her a chance to breathe. She’s coming back with us so we can get to know each other. Mija, you already met Bishop and Hank. I’ll let you meet the rest of the guys at your own pace.”

At her tiny awkward wave, they all cheered and went back to eating and laughing. Taza seated himself next to her and Bishop resumed his seat on her other side. Across from her was a man that she didn’t know and Hank was across from Taza. The man she didn’t know had dark hair slicked back and was wearing a kutte just like all the others, but she could tell that he was different.  

Megan smiled and offered her hand across the table. “Hi, I’m Megan.”

Alvarez smiled and shook her hand gently. “Marcus Alvarez. I’m a very old friend of your dad’s and a cousin of Bishop’s.”

Megan smiled sweetly. “Are you from Santo Padre too? Forgive me... I’m not sure how all of this works.”

Marcus laughed and took a sip of beer. “You’ll get there sooner than you think, but to answer your question- No, I don’t live in Santo Padre. I ride out of Oakland.” He tapped his charter flash. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

Dinner continued with Megan slowly being introduced to everyone as they came by for Taza to introduce them. She tried to keep the names straight, but her mind was so tired that she knew that she’d screw it up if asked.  

Taza kept a gentle conversation going with Megan throughout the meal. Nothing heavy. Just little things. He asked if there was anyone she wanted to contact to let them know that she was safe and she shook her head. “There’s nothing and no one left in Tennessee for me. I left my job bar tending the day before I started this way. Hoping for a fresh start.”

Taza nodded. “We can do that, Mija. Fresh start it is.”

When Taza drifted to go talk to Bishop and El Padrino, Hank noticed that Megan drank only water and hadn’t taken much in the way of food. Really only what Taza encouraged her to take some of. He leaned over the table to speak quietly to her. “You okay, Princessa? Need me to order you something else?”

She shook her head quickly and quietly murmured “I don’t have the money for this...”

Hank smiled sweetly and reached to pat her hands that were twisting a napkin on the table. “Oh! Don’t worry about that. Family dinner falls on the club’s dime.” He saw her visibly relax. “You haven’t had an easy trip, have you Princessa?”

She grinned a little as he gentled her along and started to hand her bowls to get food on her plate. “I think I currently have about five dollars in my pocket. I’m going to have to find a job quickly in Santo Padre so that I can pay Taza back for all the things that he says that I need.”

Hank shook his head firmly. “No. We’ll get you kitted out proper. Don’t you worry about that. We’re going to take care of you now. It’s what family does.”

Taza had gotten up and had his head together with Bishop and Alvarez while keeping Megan in his sight at all times. “Bish... I know we’d usually drive straight through to get home, but Megan can’t do that. She doesn’t even have a jacket, let alone the gear for that kind of ride. Plus she’s exhausted. I don’t know when the last time she slept was, but I’d bet that it wasn’t enough...”

Bishop nodded. “Yeah. I noticed that. Where do we need to go to pick up the rest of her gear?”

Taza sighed. “We don’t. All she’s got is that backpack and it’s not even half full. I haven’t gotten a straight answer as to where she’s been staying. To be honest, I’m not sure that I want to know. I get the feeling that I won’t like her answer.”

Bishop sipped his beer and kept his eye on el pacifidore as he seemed to gently urge their newest family member into eating something. “Hmmm. You’re right. She looks exhausted. It wouldn’t be a good ride for her even if she had gear. Not tonight anyway. But there’s also no sense in keeping the entire club here overnight.”

Marcus smiled. “I agree. Why not keep a small group here and the rest roll out? The smaller group can follow in the morning so no one rides alone. I’d say put her in the van but that’s not an option with the weapons currently in there. She’s family, but let’s not scare her just yet.” He stretched his back. “I’ll admit, I was dreading the night ride myself, so I’m willing to roll out with the smaller group tomorrow.”

Taza laughed. “We aren’t as young as we used to be.” He finished his beer and grimaced. “I have to take her home to the ranch in the shape I left it. I’ve been at the clubhouse so much with this Galindo shit that it’s barely habitable for ME.”

Bishop patted his brother’s shoulder. “It’s settled. You’ll stay here with El Padrino and... two others?” He looked at Marcus questioningly.

“Yeah. Two would be good.”

“So let’s say... Hank and... who else?” Bishop gestured to the rest of the table. “Hank’s good with her already.”

Taza observed the rest of the club for the moment, trying to see them from an outsider’s point of view. He didn’t want anyone too intimidating. “Can’t be Creep. Road Captain goes with the larger group so he can drive the van...”

Marcus laughed. “Can’t be the prospect either. He’s gonna go clean Taza’s house before we get there.”

Taza’s face lit up at that idea. “Yes! I want him to move my shit while he’s there. Put her in the master. Girl deserves her own bathroom.”

Bishop laughed and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “What about Coco? Hank’s supposed to be keeping an eye on him anyway.”

Both Marcus and Taza nodded. “That’s set then. Everyone else head out after dinner. The new princessa’s escort will be Taza, Hank, Coco and myself. We’ll head out tomorrow morning after a shopping spree. We’ll keep you in the loop, but we gotta take it easy on her. We may be late.” Marcus patted the table and stood. “I’ll go arrange accommodations with the tribe.”

[lestcat-de-lioncourt]

Okay sooo I have some OC characters in the mix as I’m focusing on getting my mind creativity flowing some more this month and I’m feeling inspired at the moment so I’m going to take it by the horns.

Each and every member of this universe are either gay men, lesbian, queer, hetero trans or gay trans.

Let me introduce 2 of them today! I might post some more later, I have a 3rd person coming along but I’ll leave it at this for now. I’ve partly drawn some of Zaph but if anyone wants to feel free to have a go at drawing them if they peak inspiration.

Rosen Lovell

She is 42 and lives a happy life married to her wife, I’ve not met her wife yet but this will be the plan for her. They own a one bedroom ground and first floor house, one room for each floor.

She’s known to be a little bit of a comedy queen, laid back and yet serious with a good work mind head on her, though, she’s pretty unkempt and doesn’t care much from keeping up appearances particularly aside from her casual chosen clothes that have a bit of flare in colour and detail. She’s also not much of an owner of a filter and can be judged for being rude within her way of talking, but honestly she just swears a lot and isn’t interested in manners which aren’t necessary, like wasting time holding the third fork on a table rather than just getting on with eating the tasty meal she would scarf down.

With that mouth of hers she does mess up social time with people but the friends she has love her for her brashness and honesty. Though don’t get too close to her or she’ll trip you or her up pretty fast as she’s rather clumsy. She’s terrible at planning anything but nothing makes her more happy that polishing up metalworks she enjoys creating at home before opening her market stall she occasionally opens to sell her wares on to make money for the family. Her wife will not be working for she is signed off for having depression, but she likes going to the market or the seaside sometimes with Rosen and enjoys gathering herbs as she’s a ferocious forager.

Favourite food? A good Cornish pasty, but vegetarian, as she remains not a fan of meat.

Rosen typically wears a yellow long shirt sleeveless tunic with red ruby buttons going up the middle. The tunic length just falls below the waist with a white billow sleeved shirt underneath. She wears blue skin fit trousers and brown shin high boots with a silver single buckle button on them on the foot.

Her voice is deep, her body muscular but slim with wide set form shoulders. Her hair is light brown woven into a crown braid with white ribbon. Her eyebrows are dark and firm set, serious.

Her eyes are pale blue, as light as the sky or baby blue pastel, her eyes surrounded by dark kohl liner with small swirling spirals for the decoration sweeping across the areas of skin set next to each eye. She wears no other makeup aside from this. With a wide set sharp jawline, she’s the envy of men who may believe themselves to be on par with her strength, and she could honestly cut a slab of wood with her jaw if she tried. Her wife certainly loves tracing her fingers across it in moments of loving marital affection.

Zaph

Zaph is 26 and a trans man. He’s currently single and does not wish to get into a relationship of marriage with anyone, but he does sometimes enjoy the company of women and men mutually. He’s not particularly keen on caring much for the people around him and is a loner but has a good and strict work ethic in which he succeeds in and does his job well.

He is talented at strategy and practices every day for at least 30 minutes with his live in housemate Locke, he enjoys dancing with a good sword or dancing for entertainment which is the only thing he doesn’t find boring about attending social parties or aristocratic balls he must attend until “marriage”, which is a knot for him as he never plans to get wed. Nonetheless, his fighting proficiency is high, even though he is slim, he is dreadfully strong, and his height aids well. He still cannot win against Rosen and admires her abilities and she regularly spars with him. He’s a big fan of her metal work and gets all his metal pieces and weaponry from her directly, they are good friends.

He enjoys witnessing the misfortune of others, and is vain and enjoys keeping his appearance up to scratch to his own liking, you won’t catch a hair out of place on his darkly dyed long slicked back purple hair. You can guarantee he has a mirror in every room and whilst being vain he is incredibly self conscious and often gets obsessed with making sure his hair and clothes are clean, plucked of flint and run away hairs set back in place.

Favourite food? Roasted trout with a side of roast potatoes, broccoli, parsnips, gravy, and a small side portion of turbot or cod. He loves fish and can’t get enough of it. He enjoys a good flask of honey and apple rum, but is happy being treated to an ale at a bar.

He enjoys playing tennis in leisure time and owns a set of professional rackets and equipment and plays with the local men from the Goths United Regional Tennis Club.

He’s agnostic and sees to remain that way, he’s very focused on work and doesn’t have any beliefs at the moment but he is a descendant of human and elves. He doesn’t follow his families elven faiths.

His voice is deep and lulling, his partners enjoy hearing a soothing lullaby of song for them to drift off to sleep and he is an accomplished singer but never had any interest in pursuing this. He’s not particularly considerate but this is a small area where this shows a little.

He wears a modest amount of rings on his fingers, but they do contain precious stones in them, and his attire is mostly purple garments with a high collar and brown shin high boots. He also wears a thick silver chain necklace around his neck.

His cheeks are powdered with rouge and lips painted with grey lipstick. His eyes are rimmed with black eyeliner and dark eyeshadow. His irises are white.

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 6

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ;

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 6 -

49 days of camp left

“The thing I don’t understand is,” said JJ, taking a sip of his coffee several days later at breakfast, “How is everyone so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, everyone except for us,” said Caroline.

“And Topper,” mumbled Sarah.

Her three friends all looked up at her, eyes wide.

“What?” she looked back at them, eyes equally as wide in confusion, “Why’d you think he’s been moping around camp, face looking like a slapped ass?”

“Sarah, why didn’t you say anything at the campfire?” Caroline asked angrily.

“Um, I did,” defended Sarah.

“Um, no you didn’t,” clapped back JJ, getting visibly annoyed.

John B nodded and mumbled quietly, “They’re right, you didn’t…”

“Not now, John B,” snapped Sarah at him, turning towards her other friends, “What do you mean I didn’t?”

“When we asked you about what Topper said, you literally said ‘oh nothing of importance, he doesn’t care about the bitch either’ and then you went back to glaring at those girls goggling at John B,” said JJ.

Sarah scoffed, “I was only glaring because they refuse to listen to me and only do whatever he says,”

“That’s beside the point, Sarah,” sighed JJ, “If you weren’t too busy doing that, perhaps you’d have mentioned that Topper doesn’t buy the whole boyfriend story either, which could mean that we’ve got an ally amongst all of these lunatics!”

“Sorry,” Sarah shrugged, “I guess I just got distracted,”

Caroline shook her head sighing, “Anyway, it’s almost 9,” she looked at JJ, “What’s on our schedule for today?”

“Funny you ask,” JJ responded, “We’ve actually got swimming until 11, which means the kids have swimming until 11 and we can just chill by the lake,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “If you know what I mean,”

In the days since camp began, the whole Madison thing had died down and since there was no new occurrences and, well, no new leads, Caroline and JJ decided to put their primary focus on their teens. They’d made a small rule that every time their schedule indicated that they’ve got an activity where their physical participation is not directly required, Caroline would sneak some whiskey in their thermoses and they would quietly drink it in secret, just to spice up their day.

So far Caroline was doing a pretty good job at hiding her crush on JJ, which was somehow becoming bigger by the day. For some reason everything that JJ did was attractive. Whether it was him running, or teaching the boys how to tie a noose, or eating (pretty messily) his food, or not to mention swimming practice when he was required to get naked – Caroline could just stare at him all day. She was somewhat happy about their newfound tradition of taking over some of their daily tasks while tipsy because the alcohol was somewhat helping her seem more confident and less shy.

Caroline tied her long brunette hair in a Dutch braid and smeared the tiniest bit of mascara on her lashes, just to seem effortlessly pretty, of course. She adjusted the straps of her swimsuit and grabbed her and JJ’s prefilled thermoses before heading out to meet the boy and their group in front of the camper’s cabin.

“There she is,” said JJ, unable to hide his excitement, “We ready to go?”

The campers all agreed and they made their way down towards the lake, where Caroline and JJ sat at one of the benches while their campers hurried into the water.

“Now, now, Teens 2,” said JJ after them, not too bothered about sounding strict, “Usually our timetable says swimming, but since we’re all grown ups here, we can all do whatever we want, as long as we don’t go too far away from me and Carrie’s eyesight, alright?”

Everyone agreed and JJ sat back down next to Caroline, who handed him his thermos.

“I’ve gotta give it to you, Maybank,” she said, taking a sip of the spicy liquor in her flask, “You’ve got a way with kids,”

JJ smiled down at her, taking a sip too, “I mean they’re hardly kids, C,” he said, “Besides, I try my best, I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you,”

That blush that Caroline was all too familiar with crept back onto her cheeks, “In front of me?” she repeated, surprised.

“Yeah,” nodded JJ as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I don’t see any other pretty girls around here,”

Caroline looked in the opposite direction, too shy to look at JJ, as she took another rather large sip of her drink, “JJ…”

“What? Can’t a guy give you a compliment?” he smirked, “Hey, come on now, we’re in this together, besides… your mom did say -”

Just as Caroline was about to turn towards JJ with a panicked look in her eyes, fearing what exactly her mom had said to him, two of their campers began screaming their names, diverting both of their attentions.

“Carrie! JJ! You’ve gotta come see this!”

JJ shot up, helping Caroline up as well, as they ran towards the dock. Bobby and Eli, the two campers who had called out for them, were hastily swimming back to shore.

“What is it?” Caroline asked, worry filling up her nerves.

“We found something dope!” said Eli, reaching the dock, “But we can’t reach it without you guys’ help,”

“What did you find?” asked JJ.

“That,” Bobby pointed in the direction they’d just swam from. There, a good distance away, in the middle of the body of water, stood an abandoned-looking stilt house.

“The old lake house,” JJ and Caroline said in unison.

“That’s just an old building, it’s been there forever and there’s literally nothing in it,” explained JJ, his nerves calming down after the initial jump scare, “Trust me, we’ve looked,”

Bobby rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on, you can’t be serious,” he moaned, “That place looks wicked!”

“Yeah, if you watch a lot of horror movies,” said Caroline, “JJ’s right, there’s nothing in there. I’ve been numerous times, it looks way cooler in your imagination, believe me. Reality is underwhelming,”

Eli crossed his arms, “If it’s so underwhelming why don’t you wanna take us there?”

JJ sighed, “Eli, taking you there would require taking the boats, which we’re not allowed to do unless it’s on our schedule, which it’s not, and if we take you there, we’d have to take everyone there, and -”

“Take everyone where?” came Jennie, another one of their campers’, voice suddenly.

“Yeah, JJ,” more campers gathered around the dock, “Where are you taking us?”

JJ and Caroline sighed in defeat as they shared a defeated look, making Bobby and Eli high five in victory.

“Change of plans, kids,” said JJ finally, giving in, “Swimming’s cancelled, looks like we’re going to be learning how to row today,”

_________________________________________________________

“You sure about this?” JJ grabbed Caroline’s hand as she was stepping off the boat and onto the back deck of the abandoned stilt house.

Caroline turned towards him and gave him a reassuring smile, “It’ll be just like the old days,” she said, her tone sounding promising.

JJ followed her onto the deck and they helped their campers tie their little boats on the deck’s cleats.

“Looks like y’all were really paying attention during our noose tying workshop,” JJ said proudly as he double-checked that all the boats were securely tied, “I’m gonna make sure to bring that up to Miss P and we might have a shot of winning at the Will-all-hail banquet,”

Caroline snorted at the name, “So tacky…”

“Come on guys, follow me and Carrie and watch your steps,” JJ signaled, catching everyone’s attention, “This place is crazy old so be careful! One wrong step and you may end up in the water,”

Carefully, the group entered the old creaky building. It was all too familiar to Caroline and JJ, the smell of mold and condensation hitting their nostrils as the single dusty dark room they had secretly lurked into numerous times as kids presented itself in front of them. Part of Caroline had always secretly wished for the old lake house to serve as a passageway to a parallel universe, or to hold some great big secret, or even to be inhabited by the not-so-friendly ghost of whoever built it back in the day, however unsurprisingly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary yet again. The room was empty, other than the numerous spider webs which decorated almost every corner and crease.

“There you go,” Caroline said, turning to leave, “Nothing to see here,”

JJ agreed, “As always, underwhelming and empty,”

“If it’s so empty,” spoke one of the campers, “then what’s that?” the teenager pointed in the direction of where there was once a door leading towards the front deck.

Everyone’s heads turned in that direction and sure enough, on one of the old nails sticking out of the door frame, was hung a piece of red fabric, barely noticeable from the inside, let alone from where the shore to camp was.

“Stand back,” said Caroline, slowly stepping forward towards the fabric. She peeped her head through the door hole cautiously, checking if there was anyone on the front deck, holding her breath as she did so. She breathed out in relief once she saw that the coast was clear and analyzed the fabric, “Hey, J, can you come over?”

JJ, half-impressed, half-paralyzed, snapped back to reality as he walked over to the girl who now looked so brave in his eyes, mentally slapping himself for not being a man and volunteering to go instead of her.

“Why does this look familiar?” Caroline said once JJ came over to piece of clothing. It turned out to be a dress.

JJ shrugged, pulling at the material and taking a sniff, “Whoever’s it is was here recently,” he said, “Smell of perfume is fresh,” he sniffed again, “And super strong,” he scrunched his nose, a look of disgust on his face.

Caroline took a sniff too, “Yeah, that smell is so familiar, but where from…” she sniffed again, closing her eyes in an attempt to figure out where she recognized the scent from.

“Probably one of the girls from your cabin,” concluded JJ, “I’d put my money on Jenna Kinley, she seems like the type to sneak around,”

Caroline smirked, “Sounds about right, she was probably up here sneaking around with Barry, I hear her talking about him all the time,” she unhooked the dress from the nail, “I’ll bring it back to her, she must think she’s lost it,”

JJ nodded and they led the campers out of the stilt house and onto shore again. Caroline tucked the dress in her bag along with her thermos and waited until after everyone’s daily activities were over to meet Sarah by the showers and tell her about her and JJ’s scandalous little discovery. Ever since they’d arrived at Camp Willowdale and had their phones taken away for the rest of the summer, the only source of news and gossip was whatever was happening around camp, and since it wasn’t all that much, every little bit of spice counted.

“So how was archery?” she asked Sarah as she folded her underwear and turned the water in her shower on.

Sarah followed in after her, not bothering on going into a neighboring shower stall. They had developed his habit of showering together about three days into camp, with Sarah seemingly having separation anxiety and insisting that “they’ve both got the same bits and pieces” and that how “any guy would be lucky to be in the position Caroline is in,”.

The blonde groaned as she squeezed some of her purple shampoo in her palm, foaming it up and working it into her hair, “Horrible,” she said, “How do you see me with a bow and arrows?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” teased Caroline, mirroring Sarah’s actions and washing her hair.

“Whatever, C,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “How was your swim date with your boyfriend?”

“Okay, first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” said Caroline earning a smug look from Sarah, “And second, you’ll never guess what we found,”

“Oooh, is it the incessant lust you have for each other?” teased Sarah.

“No, it’s better,” said Caroline, ignoring her friend’s words, “We went to the old lake house and we may or may not have found what we believe to be Jenna’s dress just hanging there,” Sarah’s eyes widened at her words, “Yeah, we assume she’s sneaking around with Barry, how fucking scandalous is that?”

“Shut up!” gasped Sarah.

Caroline nodded excitedly, “Right? She’s been yapping about him nonstop and we just put two and two together,”

“Who’d have thought… little miss perfect and Barry,” scoffed Sarah, “D’you have the dress? It’ll be so embarrassing once you give it back to her, I can picture her face already,”

“You bet I do, it’s in my bag,” said Caroline, “Must’ve done the deed recently, it still reeks of her,” she scrunched her nose at the thought of the horrible smell.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “What’re you pulling that face for? Does she smell that bad?”

Caroline shook her head, “It’s her perfume,” she explained, “Smells like what I imagine Miss P’s underwear drawer smelling like,”

Sarah scoffed, “Now you’ve got me intrigued,” she quickly rinsed her hair and body off, hurrying for her towel, “Where’d you say this dress was?”

Caroline nodded her head in the direction of her bag, “Somewhere in my bag,” she said, “But I’m being serious – you’ve been warned,”

As she continued rinsing her hair, Sarah dove her hand into Caroline’s bag, searching for the dress in question. When she finally felt it in her hand, she pulled the piece of clothing out pressing it against her nose to take a sniff. Her eyes widened in horror as realization consumed her.

“Carrie…” she mumbled not loud enough for her friend to look up, “Carrie, this isn’t Jenna’s dress,” she spoke louder.

This time, Caroline looked up at Sarah with a look of confusion in her eyes.

“The perfume you’re talking about,” said Sarah, “It’s Guerlain Shalimar, I’d recognize it anywhere,”

“Your point being…?”

“This perfume doesn’t belong to Jenna,” Sarah turned to look at Caroline, her eyes still wide in horror, “It’s Madison’s,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: chapter 6 is upppp!! I hope you like it!! let me know what you think and if you want to be added in the tag list for future chapters, tell me!! xxx

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04

Part 7 here

[shizukateal]

The Holy Quintet: The BEST DRESSED Magical Girl Team EVER. Part 2: Characters made of symbols and shapes.

Part 1 here.

Mami Tomoe

Mami Tomoe’s outfit is a work of genius that really humbles me as an aspiring character designer. Watching the perfection in its simplicity only boggles my mind trying to reverse engineer the thought process behind it. Even if they already had decided on the huntress theme before they finished her, how did Ume Aoki came up with cutting the sleeves like that? Or with the perfect skirt shape that allows the corset to show all of her curves while puffing at just the right height to not make the hipline transition awkward and giving the shape of a flower? How long did it take her to find this particular color scheme? Did she immediately know where to put the purple to balance the outfit without feeling artificial? How did she realize that the stripes on the socks would add the ideal touch to the whole setup? Or the perfect way to turn the soulgem into a hair accessory? I would have gone the easy way and put it in the chest ribbon like the amateur I am! Did she have doubts about it while she was figuring out the exact design of the boots?!

This outfit does everything. It’s sexy without being unnecessarily tasteless, it’s girly and fancy but battle-ready, it even passes the silhouette test, it’s nuanced, almost realistic. Even Mami’s hairstyle, which in a lesser design would look too childish, is perfect for her. Mami’s whole theme is that she’s a little girl desperately trying to convince herself that she’s an adult. Her low drill-tails are doll-like, which is to say a little girl’s idea of what a fancy adult woman looks like. The side-swept bangs also give a youthful roundness to her face while being elegant, and the way the hat and hairpin complements the whole thing is just * cheff’s kiss *.

Kyouko Sakura

Kyouko is a fire gal, and as such her shape is a triangle, so her outfit is a halter top coat that widens into the frilled overskirt. Her ponytail also feeds into this theme, with hair bits sticking wildly on the top like the fire sparks of a candle, and the ribbon is just scrappy but cute enough to compliment her personality. Haha, ponytail, get it? Like a horse? Or in her case a de-horned unicorn, ergo her spear. Her look also gives us the impression of an outlaw with her pirate/rider boots, long coat and gloves, fitting her lifestyle, and her soulgem is on her chest, indicating her more emotional nature. I think the boldest decision was to leave her hands ungloved, or at least I know I wouldn’t have done that, but that’s why I’m glad I wasn’t in Ume Aoki’s position when Madoka was in production. The white details on her undershirt and boots also put an elegant touch of complexity that completes the whole thing. What I’m trying to say here is that Kyoko has the ““easiest”” design of the other puellas, but it’s still top notch.

Sayaka Miki

Sayaka’s outfit is a balancing act, trying to keep it’s knight aesthetic clear without relying on heavy armor to do so and thus allowing Sayaka’s more romantic, femenine side to show, not to mention her water + music/mermaid theme. Her whole getup is very ingenious. Her short hair allows the cape to flow without seeming excessive and heavy or an inconvenience, her hairpin prevents the cut from being bland, but still keeping a somewhat tomboyish look, and her skirt has a distinct asymmetrical cut that, with its white outline, gives the idea of a wave. Her boots are short, comfy, practical, and their shade is just different enough that they avoid the look from feeling kinda boring within its color pallet, without straying away from it. I’m honestly amazed at how well they pulled of her belly-button soulgem as well, especially without taking away from the knight theme, hell they even used that in their favor! That is ingenuity. It was also a genius idea to hold the cape on a choker to make it all fit better with a sweetheart neckline.

Homura Akemi

As I mentioned before when I talked about Senjougahara, Homura is a rhombus, not just in her soul gem but in the rest of her body: she is pointy, slim, and long. She is the tallest and lankiest amongst the Holy Quintet, her outfit primarily highlighting her legs and her hair ending in jagged points. What impresses me the most about it is that the shirt is very weirdly cut for a concept as straightforward as “school uniform”, but it works. I can imagine a much easier version of it without the undersleeves or the collar. Speaking of which, the shape of them draws attention to her soul gem on her hand, which is placed there to symbolize how she’s the most “hands on” magical girl. Her time motif is present in her back ribbon, which looks like clock hands, same with Moemura’s braids, and in her shield, which is small and attached to her wrist and also is actually a sand clock. That shield is a really neat, concise, and smart way to tie up the entirety of her wish, huh? Speaking of Moemura, it’s really interesting to see the conflict between the two versions of this character in their differences. First we have the hair, of course, then the red glasses. I sense that there’s more to those than what I’m interpreting here, but the best I can do is conclude that aside that Homura tosses them out because they represent her weakness the fact that they’re red means they also represent her emotionality, which Madoka returns to her when she gives her her red ribbons (which also represent the string of fate, of course, and also confidence in oneself). But the part that interests me the most is her heels. Moemura doesn’t fit them, she trips on them constantly, but for Homura they are a symbol of her maturity and composure. Naturally, the first time we see Homura break down after narrowly killing Kyubey before they could do a contract with Madoka, she trips on them.

@leafbladie also pointed out to me that the reason it looks like a school uniform might be because school is the only place where she could make genuine human connections. 

Madoka Kaname

Kyouko is a triangle, Homura is a rhombus, and Madoka is, fittingly, a Star, aka. a cluster of points shooting out from a center, which also blends well as a flower motif. Or to put it even more eloquently, she’s the flower from the ground that will eventually become the star in the sky. It’s in her skirt, gloves, socks and ponytails. And the rest of her? Is a deception in its simplicity. After all, this is what you expect from the leader of a magical girl team, right? Pink! Ribbons! Frills! Come on, you’ve seen this outfit before, it’s practically the same as Cure Peach’s! But Madoka is aiming for something more specific: she is both a fairy AND a witch, the two faces of the Magical Girl, creatures of fairytales often related to either nature or to the stars, and it works precisely because she uses that shape. Madoka is a balance of roundness and pointiness, it’s just that those points are softened by the pastel coloring. Her balance in ribbons and frills is excellent as well. I should probably write a separate post on how those 2 elements work in general, but suffice to say that we all know way too many magical girls that just put those things everywhere. Two on her ponytails to highlight them, one behind her neck, two on her hips to smooth the hipline transition, two behind her shoes. Huh, speaking of those, Madoka has surprisingly tall heels, right? Taller than Mami’s and only matched by Homura’s. Really tells you who the 2 most emotionally resilient members are in the team.

The last piece I’d like to highlight is her weapon, which I’m jealous of because I did that concept for an OC of mine and now if I do it everyone is going to think that I got it from her. But in any case, yeah combining a druidic staff into an also druidic bow whose arrows are also shooting star analogues is the perfect choice for this particular character, the Goddess of Magical Girls.

And this, everyone, has been my reasoning and analysis of the genius of the Holy Quintet’s character designs. Follow me if you want more magical girl outfit analysis.

[cora-vizsla]

Hypnotic (Taking Over Me)- Chapter 2

Pairing: Eventual Jedi!OC x Sith!Obi Wan

Word Count: 4.3K

Story Rating: E (18+)

Chapter Rating: T

Warning: Swearing. Threats of violence. Calm kidnapping. Mentions of sex in the past. 

A/N: I know I said I was going to post this like two days ago but life got in the way. I hope you enjoy either way. As always, if I missed any tags please let me know!

When they got closer to presumably their destination, Veth held out a blindfold. Zara raised one eyebrow at him and shook her head.

“I’m not wearing that. Your threat of killing my men is over so you have no leverage over me.”

“I have two lightsabers and you’re stuck in this ship with me.”

“If you swing them, we both die. Are you wanting to die?”

“Are you?”

Zara scowled and crossed her arms. Veth laughed at her which only soured her mood even more.

“Me not having leverage over you is exactly why I need you to wear this. You presumably have it planned that you figure out where you are and either get a message out or escape on your own. I do not want to harm you, but I will if I have to.”

“So, wear this for my own protection?”

“Precisely, darling.”

Zara did nothing short of barking out a cackle.

“I am a Jedi Knight. I do not fear you. You may have manipulated me into going with you to keep my clones safe but that does not mean I am easily fooled.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“Would you trust me if the roles were reversed?”

“Yes.”

Zara was taken back by his swift and solid answer.

“You’ve had many chances to fight me, yet you’d prefer to talk and negotiate. You don’t want to fight if you don’t have to. That is a trait we share.”

“Sith only want destruction.”

“That is what the Jedi teach.”

“That is the truth.”

“Give me one day, Zara Fross. Comply with me for that long then you can make your decision on if you’re going to fight back or not.”

“Why a day?”

“That’s how long it will take me to ensure that you are safe before you do something reckless like jumping off a cliff.”

She found herself biting back a laugh as she reached to snatch the blindfold. Veth made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat and motioned for her to turn. Zara grimaced but turned slightly, allowing her captor to place it over her eyes and tie it. She felt her face flush when he gently turned her and ensured her eyes were completely covered.

“I bet this is the easiest kidnapping you’ve ever conducted.”

“You are right, though you aren’t the first beautiful woman I’ve put a blindfold on. Now sit there like a good girl and we will be home soon enough.”

Shocked by his tone and words, Zara sat in silence instead of arguing. She told herself that it would never be home to her, just a temporary stop before she found her way back to the Jedi. She hoped that Anakin wasn’t causing too much trouble.

---

“THAT is why you sent her without me!? You knew that creep would follow her!”

“Calm down, Anakin.” Mace said for what felt like the hundredth time.

“How can I calm down? He TOOK her!”

“She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. There was no indication that she was harmed. He let her leave a message for Commander Cody.”

“Where is Commander Cody? He should be punished for leaving her alone in the first place.”

“Anakin Skywalker. You better watch your tone when you’re speaking to the council. I understand you care for your friend, but you need to recognize that we need to put our trust in her and her capabilities. You’re bordering on insulting with how little you believe in her.”

“Master Windu, I can’t agree with not sending someone to find her. To save her. We have no idea what that creep is doing to her.”

“We also don’t know where she is. Once we get intel on her location, we will send someone to retrieve her. Until then, you have missions that you must accomplish. The war has not stopped, and you have not been relieved of any of your responsibilities.”

Anakin sighed and deflated. He nodded at Mace and ran his hands down his face.

“You’re right, Master. Just.. please keep me updated on her while I’m gone.”

Mace nodded at him and watched him leave. Yoda turned to him once the door shut and shook his head.

“Troubled, that boy is.”

“Yes. I know him and Zara are close, but he is so reckless.”

“No different, Zara would be.”

“No but she would have at least said those things to me in private instead of the entire counsel.”

Yoda chuckled and nodded, reaching over to pat Maces hand a few times. It was unspoken, but Master Windu was just as worried about his former Padawan as Anakin was, especially if the reports about Darth Veth were true.

---

Zara hated not having some semblance of control. It was why she preferred not to fight. No one could ever predict every move someone else would make. Words were easier for her to predict. So, stumbling through the snow without being able to see was not her idea of a good time.

“We’re almost there, darling.”

“I really wish you’d stop calling me that.”

“Would you prefer princess? Love? I’m sure I could find sweet pet names to find out in different languages if that is what you would enjoy.”

Zara stopped moving, turning to where she thought the man was and tried to glare.

“Fine. Stick with darling.”

He chuckled and gripped her arm a little tighter. He wasn’t hurting her, not that he even remotely wanted to. When she had stumbled a few times, he felt bad at how petrified she was at not being able to see. He had offered to carry her but that didn’t help the fear that was basically seeping from her pores.

When her teeth started chattering, he finally gave in and scooped her up. She gasped out of surprise and started to protest. She silenced when he shushed her and tentatively held onto him, afraid of being dropped.

“It’s quicker this way. Need to get you inside before you freeze to death.”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away would I.”

He chuckled and tightened his grip on her, picking up his pace. Within a few minutes he spotted their destination and got her inside. He deposited her gently on his couch and pulled the blindfold off.

“Get your boots off. You aren’t dressed for the cold and you don’t want to lose toes because of it.”

She hesitated, taking in her surroundings but eventually pulled them off, setting them neatly by her. Veth looked at her as he was taking off his heavy jacket and boots.

“You don’t need to sit there. You can explore.”

She stood warily, wincing at the feeling returning to her feet. She walked throughout the main living space and noticed how simple it was. She half expected a home more industrial and extravagant. It didn’t scream Sith Lord to her.

Making her way down the hallway, she looked into each room. She was surprised to see that there were two bedrooms and a fairly large refresher. The last room she came to actually intrigued her enough to walk in. Every wall was covered from floor to ceiling in books and holocrons.

“I figured this would be the room I’d find you in.”

Zara glanced over her shoulder and wrapped her arms around herself. Veth walked in and stood next to her.

“You are welcome to read anything in here. I would have brought some of the texts from our meeting spot but figured they’d just be another weapon for you to use against me.”

“I wouldn’t risk destroying history like that.”

“Then I trust you all the more in my personal library. I have placed warm clothes in the refresher. Take your time as this planet has no water restrictions or issues. I will be making some food to eat. Come find me when you are done.”

He went to walk out but Zara reached out and touched his arm lightly, recoiling as soon as she did.

“Why.. why am I here?”

“Are you asking that or asking why you aren’t shackled and bleeding?”

“I guess I’m asking both.”

“Go shower. I will answer all questions within reason when you are done.”

---

Zara stepped out of the shower and wiped at the mirror in front of her. She considered braiding her hair but with the cold she needed it to dry as soon as possible. She looked down at the counter and saw that there was a brush. With a shrug she picked it up and worked it through her hair.

It had gotten much longer than she usually let it grow. When she was younger, she kept it short to keep it out of her face but now it was down to her mid back. She ran her fingers across the short side she had cut and thought of Anakin. He had dared her to do it thinking she would care too much about her hair. She had laughed so hard when she saw the expression on his face when she cut the portion.

She wondered how Anakin was. It wasn’t abnormal not to talk to him for days at a time, but now she didn’t even have the capability to. He was her best friend and the idea of not seeing him again brought a pain to her chest she had never felt before.

Zara shook her head, trying to will away the negative thoughts. Instead, she focused on the bright color of her hair. It had been another dare of Anakin. He thought Mace would be furious with her but instead he had given her a soft smile and a nod, letting her know it fit her. Master Windu always wanted her to be herself in a way that fit the code. Her appearance didn’t matter as long as she lived the code and was proud of being a Jedi.

She looked down at the clothes and frown. They were most definitely the Sith’s robes. She considered putting her own back on, but he was right; it was cold. Once she was dressed in the black robes that were just slightly too big for her, she hung her towel up and went back out to the main living area.

“Ah, hello there. I hope your shower was enjoyable.”

She nodded, not having the energy to argue with him anymore. He motioned for the table that already had food waiting for her. She sat down gently and looked at the food.

“Stars, I know I’m not a great cook, but it isn’t enough to be sad over.”

When she didn’t look up at him, he sighed and sat next to her, digging into his own food. She eventually picked up her utensils and started eating. It was warm and well-seasoned, but it did little to improve her mood.

“Lord Veth, why am I here?”

He used his napkin to pat at his mouth before sitting back in his chair. It struck her as odd at how sophisticated he was, again. It went against everything that she had been taught about the Sith and how they lived their life.

“I promised you answers. I will give you as many as I can. Then you can be informed if you want to fight against your captivity or not.”

He took a drink of the wine in front of him before crossing on leg over the other.

“I first heard of you when you started your missions with the Skywalker boy.”

“You’ve called him Ani. Why?”

“I’ll get there, my dear. I was tasked with observing you and finding a way to get you away from him. You see, my Master desperately wants the boy. He has plans for him. He doesn’t think that he will stray from the Jedi as long as you are around him. You’re a rather calming presence for him just as much as he challenges you to come out of your shell.”

“He’s my best friend.”

Zara felt her chest tighten again at the thought of Anakin and the vulnerability she was showing.

“Without you around he can fulfill the role my Master expects of him. I was given the option to just kill you but the more I learned of you the more I saw how much of a waste that would be. You’re a strong Jedi and an even smarter woman. You care deeply for those around you regardless of it being a stretch in the code you swore yourself to.”

“That doesn’t explain how you know Anakin.”

“I was with Qui Gon when he found him.”

“You?”

He chuckled and nodded, brushing his hair back out of his face.

“Yes. I went by an entirely different name back then, but I was there.”

Zara furrowed her brow and tried to figure out who he possibly could be. She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried desperately to pull up the memory.

“Master Windu told me of a padawan Master Jinn had. He died though so he took on Anakin.”

“I did not die. I’m sure he thought I did with the fiery explosion. My Masters other apprentice found me barely clinging to life. The Jedi never even looked for me.”

“That’s.. terrible. I am so very sorry that they didn’t.. there had to have been a reason they didn’t-”

Zara sat up straighter when anger flashed across the man’s face. His eyes seemed even more dangerous and for the first time she didn’t feel safe around him. She stood up and he followed, backing her against the wall. He caged her in by placing his hands on each side of her head.

“Do not mistake my civility as us being friends, Jedi. I will treat you as my guest, but I will not have the betrayal they put me through excused or brushed off by anyone. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl.”

He stood up, taking his hands from the wall and tracing his finger across her jaw gently with a feral smile. She looked up at him trying to steel herself against him. She had almost let herself forget that he was a dangerous Sith keeping her captive.

“Why don’t you finish eating then we can talk more. Like I said earlier, there is much I wish to learn about you.”

---

Zara sat curled up on the end of the couch, trying to keep warm. Regardless of what she was wearing, she couldn’t seem to shake the cold. Her previous thoughts of hating the heat were coming back to haunt her. She jumped when she felt something rest against her shoulders until she saw the Sith was laying a thick blanket across her.

“Uh, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear.”

He sat down next to her, far enough away that they weren’t touching.

“It unfortunately gets very cold at night here.”

“Where are we, Hoth?”

“No, but a planet very similar.”

“Stars how do you deal with it?”

“I manage.”

She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and shivered.

“May I ask you what your name was before?”

“You may. However, for every question I answer you need to answer two of mine.”

“Two? How is that fair?”

“Who said anything about fair?”

She looked over at him and scowled at his sly grin. She turned so she was facing him more with her knees pulled up to her chest. He was already turned slightly to the side with his legs spread apart and his arm thrown over the back of the couch.

“Fine. What was your name.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Obi.. wow.”

“You know the name?”

“I do. Master Jinn spoke of you often while Anakin and I were training.”

He rolled his jaw before forcing the emotion to fall from his face. He was smiling again before she even could comprehend that he had been upset.

“What planet are you from?”

“Alderaan.”

“Good family?”

“The best. Wonderful parents. Well off. Supportive in my quest to become a Jedi.”

“Interesting. That explains your education and manners.”

She shrugged and smiled softly.

“Can I assume you’re from Coruscant?”

“No. I don’t really remember though I was very young when I went there. Thus, the accent.”

“Makes sense. The Jedi usually take in children at a young age.”

“You mean steal them.”

Not wanting to anger him more, she fell silent.

“Were you at the temple before Anakin?”

“Yes. Not very long though. Maybe a week or two if I remember correctly.”

“Then I just missed you it seems.”

She nodded and shivered again.

“What is the extent of your relationship with Skywalker?”

Her head shot up at that question. She looked him directly in his eyes and saw a cautious curiosity.

“I’ve told you. He’s my best friend.”

“It seems deeper than that. He was positively furious when I called you darling.”

“He’s.. protective. He had to leave his mother and I was the first person he truly connected to after that. Master Windu worried he was corrupting me but there were many times he kept me sane.”

“Explain more, please.”

She smirked and shook her head.

“You’re being awfully careful not to ask another question.”

“Trying to play by the rules, my dear.”

She chuckled and played with the edge of the blanket.

“I think maybe if there hadn’t been a code, we would have grown closer.”

“So, you turned him down.”

“Not necessarily. It’s not like we talked about it. We just knew it wasn’t what the Jedi would need from us. Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes.”

She decided not to press him more when his answer was clipped. She lowered her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip again.

“Do you love Anakin?”

“I.. I’ve never let myself love anyone. My destiny is to be a Jedi Master. I won’t let anything deter that.”

“Interesting. So, you don’t indulge in physical pleasure?”

She snorted and he raised his eyebrows in response.

“I’m not a prude. I just don’t let myself feel possessive or attached to them.”

“So, why not with Anakin then? You two are already close.”

She shrugged and laughed, her face feeling warm.

“Doesn’t really need to be thought about. It didn’t happen and won’t.”

“You’re rather open with me. Not what I expected considering who your Master was.”

“I would rather give you this information willingly in a way that I can benefit from it. Considering what the alternative is I think it’s safer that way.”

He chuckled and carded his hand through his hair again.

“You are wise beyond your years, darling. I do wonder why you were so willing to tell me about Anakin though. You know he is in danger.”

“Nothing that I told you is anything you couldn’t have found out just by watching us. You actually probably would have assumed there was more to it. I know the counsel did many times.”

Zara let out a yawn, trying to cover her face as she did. Veth chuckled and stood, motioning for her to lay down on the couch.

“There is a spare room, but it is much warmer out here. I’ll check on the fire throughout the night.”

She curled up and made sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around her. He added more wood to the fire and dusted his hands off as he stood up. He paused at the doorway and looked at the sleepy Jedi on his couch.

“Goodnight, Zara.”

“Goodnight, Lord Veth.”

“You can call me Obi Wan, if you’d prefer.”

“I thought we weren’t friends, Obi Wan?”

“You’re starting to grow on me a bit, darling.”

With a smirk he left, leaving her even more confused than the first time she met him. Zara was terrified of the situation she was in but knew she had to play his game. As she drifted to sleep, she worried about her best friend and what they could possibly want from him. She had to find a way to warn him and protect him.

“Zara. Zara dear, you need to wake up. Come on, sweetheart.”

She woke with a gasp and looked around, unaware of where she was. She jumped when she realized Obi Wan was kneeling by the couch with his hand on her shoulder. He looked worried; his hair still disheveled from sleeping.

“W-what? What is it?”

“You were crying out in your sleep. Gave me a terrible fright when I heard you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m f-fine. Sorry. Sorry for startling you.”

“What was wrong?”

“I just.. I have nightmares. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Don’t let me keep you up.”

She sat up, pulling away from his touch. He stood and moved to the fire, tending to it like he had been doing it his entire life. She watched him as she worked on controlling her breathing. Although nightmares weren’t new to her, being woken by someone she didn’t know was. She felt ashamed and embarrassed that he had heard her crying.

“Tell me, darling, do the Jedi know of your nightmares?”

“It’s hard to find one of us who doesn’t have them. War never really leaves us.”

“You’re fighting against a droid army.”

“We don’t use droids to fight.”

Her voice was harsh and clipped, surprising Obi Wan. He walked to her, stopping only to kneel in front of her on the floor. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her and watched him with unease.

“You really do care about your clones, don’t you?”

“They’re people. Living breathing people. Their history or how they came to life doesn’t concern me. What concerns me is-“

“Stars, Zara, they’re just clones. More can be made.”

“You sound like Senator Palpatine. So high and mighty that you have no regard for life. Even now you play games with me, dangling the idea of my death over my head. You’re no better than a bored loth cat playing with a mouse.”

“Are you comparing yourself to a rodent?”

He smirked and it infuriated Zara. She snarled and tried to get up, wanting space between the two of them. Before she could even fully try, Obi Wans hands shot out and grabbed her thighs tightly, keeping her in place.

“No, Lord Veth, I am comparing you to a predator with absolutely no humanity. Your tricks will not work on me. You may have been a Jedi once, but it is clear as day that you are no longer harboring any shred of light in you. Go ahead and pretend that you’re civil and sophisticated while you keep me prisoner on this despot of a planet. It doesn’t matter how kind or human you pretend to be. You’re nothing short of a monster. You’ll never be able to hide the evil coursing through you when it burns so brightly through your eyes.”

Zara held back a wince as his grip tightened on her legs. The normal playfulness that he usually held on his face was long gone. The more she spoke, the angrier he became.

“There she is. There is the conceited Jedi I knew had to have been in there. I saved your life, little knight. I spared your men knowing that it would harm you to wipe them out. I let you stay awake and conscious of what was happening. I gave you my clothes to wear so you would be warm and let you know parts of me that I didn’t need to divulge. Without me, you would be dead along with your entire regiment.”

“How do I even know a single thing you’ve said to me is true? Sith lie.”

“Now you question my integrity? When have you discovered anything I have said to you is a lie?”

“It all has to be a lie! Why would anyone that follows the dark want Anakin? He is a good man. He is devoted to those he loves and the family he has created within the order. He would never fall to the dark side. He wouldn’t do that to them. He wouldn’t do that to-“

“To what? Or were you going to say to who? He wouldn’t do that to you. Is that what you were going to say? Hmm?”

When Zara fell silent Obi Wan laughed out darkly.

“My dear, pull the right strings and anyone could fall to the dark. He has a weakness, and it is you.”

“It’s not like that with me!”

“Does he know that? You see, I have been in love before and it didn’t matter how far away I ended up from her. It never went away. Even once I heard of her death, I still mourned her and the love we could have shared if I had just let myself fall.”

She shook her head quickly.

“He will do what our master’s ask of us. He will help win this war and-“

“Now who is the liar, Zara? I’ve heard some doozies coming from the lips of Jedi, but I have never heard someone so willing to lie when the truth is right in their face. The fall of Anakin Skywalker has already begun. Your absence, regardless of what is causing it, is going to make him desperate. He will do anything to either get you back or avenge you. Look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m wrong.”

Zara opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it.

“That’s what I thought.”

He released her legs and stood, looking down at her with anger.

“Get some rest. Lack of sleep makes you ungrateful and it’s not a good look.”

Once he was in his room, punctuated by a slam of his door, Zara finally let her tears fall. She wanted to talk to Master Windu to get clarity. She needed to hear that Veth, Obi Wan, whoever he was, was wrong. Feeling hopeless and helpless wasn’t something she was accustomed to and it was tearing her to shreds.